


After Dark

by PhantomFlutist



Category: VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Asexual Character, Blood and Gore, Explicit Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Porn With Plot, Rough Sex, Unhealthy Relationships, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-04-14 19:41:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 66,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14143152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhantomFlutist/pseuds/PhantomFlutist
Summary: Secrets and misdirection and ruthlessness were the tools they used to make it to the top. They were young, perhaps, but fools learned quickly that crossing them was a death sentence and the only way to ensure you were safe was complete and utter loyalty.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like shit rn. Okay!
> 
> This started out dark and then somewhere along the line I got distracted. I mean, it's still mafia!au with all that that implies, but there's also some humor in here (and an amount of filth that surprised even me?)
> 
> Updates will be...when I get to them. I have part of the next chapter written already so it probably won't be too many weeks.

 

Hongbin was usually dressed to...put people at ease. Sitting curled up on the floor beside Hakyeon’s armchair (or in his lap) wearing a big, soft sweater and ripped skinny jeans, with his bare toes peeking out, made their guests more relaxed.

If the boss’ arm candy was there, it couldn’t be too bad, right?

And usually it didn’t even matter that Wonshik was stalking the perimeter of the room looking surly and dangerous. It made sense for a man like Hakyeon to have his bodyguard-slash-right-hand nearby at all times.

Wonshik wasn’t actually Hakyeon’s right hand, but that hardly mattered.

“You seem to be under the impression that you’re here because I intend to reward you, Mr. Lee,” Hakyeon said, voice dripping honey.

Hongbin was watching the man sitting on their antique chaise lounge, and saw the moment Hakyeon’s words sunk in and his eyes widened.

Hakyeon’s eyebrow arched impressively, and without waiting for the other man to respond he asked, “Did you think that because I am young, you can deceive me? I know you’ve been skimming a bit off the top, Mr. Lee.” He waved his hand when the other man started to speak. “I don’t care if you had noble reasons or if you just thought you wouldn’t get caught. There is no place in my organization for people who do not give me their complete loyalty.”

The man was shivering minutely, and Hongbin quietly reveled in it. Hakyeon was the most terrifying when he stated facts in that calm, even tone. Because the things he said couldn’t be refuted. There was no argument for Mr. Lee to make that would save him from his fate. It had been decided the moment Sanghyuk had informed them that the man was stealing from them.

Hakyeon stroked his long fingers through Hongbin’s hair. His many ornate rings brushed coolly against Hongbin’s scalp and made him shiver. “How much of my money have you stolen, Mr. Lee?” he asked, tone deceptively kind.

Mr. Lee looked like he was about to shit his pants. “I...I um–”

“Over eight million won,” Wonshik said, speaking up from his place by the window. He was gazing out through the gap in the curtains as though he was disinterested in the conversation.

Hakyeon clucked his tongue like a mother disappointed in her children for swiping cookies right before dinner. “Eight million won, Mr. Lee?” he asked, as if he didn’t already know. “That’s a huge percentage of our profits. And you thought that it would go unnoticed?”

“Please,” Mr. Lee began, and he might have said something more, might have begged for his life, perhaps, but Hakyeon cut him off yet again.

“I don’t care.” His hand fell from Hongbin’s head and he smiled a gruesome smile. It was a smile with which Hongbin was intimately familiar, a smile that he’d come to love. But for Mr. Lee, watching Hakyeon’s lips spread in that mockery of mirth, it meant only pain. “Here’s what is going to happen, Mr. Lee,” Hakyeon said with careful enunciation, each consonant sharp. “For your...indiscretions...you will pay with blood.”

Mr. Lee let out a childish whimper.

“What do you think, baby?” Hakyeon asked, glancing down at Hongbin and letting one corner of his mouth tilt into a truer smile than the one he’d worn before. It was still rough-edged and dangerous, but all for Hongbin. All for the matching smirk that Hongbin offered him in response. “The last time we took, what, three fingers? How much did that one steal from us?”

“Three million won,” Wonshik said, low voice resonating from the opposite side of the room as last time, while he stood at the wet bar and casually mixed a martini. It wasn’t for himself – Wonshik didn’t drink on the job – and Hongbin hadn’t seen Hakyeon signal him at all, but then Wonshik had always been exceptionally good at reading people. It made him invaluable.

“Hmm,” Hakyeon hummed, as he pretended to consider that. “Following the same logic, we should take eight fingers from you.” He rose and stalked over to the chaise lounge, long graceful dancer’s legs taking him from one side of the room to the other in just a few paces. He pinched the man’s chin between thumb and forefinger and lifted his face up. “But you won’t be very useful to me with only two fingers,” he said.

Hongbin knew where this was going. Hakyeon may have been acting as though he’d just decided all of this now, but Hongbin knew better. This was carefully crafted to make sure that Mr. Lee would not betray them again. Tools were only useful as long as they were loyal.

“He can live without his dick,” Hongbin suggested lightly, just to stir the pot.

Mr. Lee carefully pressed his knees together as though that would save him if Hakyeon truly decided to cut off his manhood.

But Hakyeon shook his head, made another thoughtful noise, and instead concluded, “I think he’ll do fine with only one hand, don’t you?”

Hongbin made a vague, agreeable noise.

“Let this be a lesson to you, Mr. Lee. I demand nothing less than complete devotion. You will not get another chance.” Hakyeon said, and released Mr. Lee’s face and stepped back. He returned to his chair, resettled, and gave Hongbin another chilling smile. “He’s all yours, baby.”

“Ravi, my tools?” Hongbin requested casually, standing. He carefully rolled back the sleeves of his sweater, folding the cuffs rather than simply shoving them up his arms.

Mr. Lee looked like he couldn’t choose between terror and confusion. Confused terror was not a good look on him.

Wonshik unlocked one of the ornate cupboards at the side of the room and removed a worn roll of leather. He took it to one of the tall side tables and unrolled it there. Metal clinked softly as he did so.

When he was finished he returned to his previous task, serving the martini and then leaving it on top of the bar. He started prowling the edges of the room again, a tense wariness in his shoulders.

Hongbin went to the side table and made a show of looking through the implements laid out there. He lifted one wickedly serrated knife and ran a finger along the flat side, looking thoughtful.

Throughout all of this, the room was eerily silent besides Mr. Lee’s labored breathing. Hongbin knew that if he turned to look Hakyeon would be amused and bloodthirsty in equal measure. He indulged Hongbin more than he really craved this for himself, but for all that he complained, Hongbin knew exactly how turned on Hakyeon was by Hongbin’s skills in this particular craft.

“I would tell you that this won’t hurt,” Hongbin said, tilting his head in Mr. Lee’s direction with a predatory gaze, “but that would be a lie, I’m afraid.”

Mr. Lee swallowed thickly.

–

“We’ll have to have that professionally cleaned,” Hakyeon complained, eyeing the newly-bloodstained chaise lounge with dismay.

Hongbin chuckled, striding over to the bar and lifting his martini, blood smearing from his fingertips across the delicate glass. He took a sip and looked over at his lover, still lounging on the wing-backed armchair in a graceful slump. “I’ll buy you a new one,” he said casually.

Hakyeon turned a pout on him, crossing his arms over his chest like a petulant child. “You know how long it took for me to find one I liked after _your brother_ ruined the last one.”

“Jaehwan is sorry,” Hongbin said, knowing that it was a half-truth at best. He perched on the arm of Hakyeon’s chair and ran his fingers through Hakyeon’s hair absentmindedly. “In his defense, he had no idea that was a flamethrower.”

“It was _labeled_ ,” Hakyeon argued. His pout grew, but for once he didn’t comment on the fact that Hongbin was getting blood in his hair. “And he should know better than to just _play with_ things that he doesn’t recognize in a place like this.”

Hongbin sighed heavily. “I already talked to him about that,” he reminded Hakyeon gently. “And if you’re really so concerned, I’ll have the chaise professionally cleaned. Even if it would be easier to just get a new one.”

“ _Easier?_ ” Hakyeon practically screeched. “It took me _three weeks_ to find one in the right color last time! There are only so many antique chaise lounges in the world, Hongbin. We can’t just ruin them all and keep replacing them indefinitely.”

“You’re right, as usual,” Hongbin said, and leaned down to kiss Hakyeon’s forehead fondly. “I’ll have Wonshik call the cleaners right away. Best have it taken care of before the stains set permanently, right?”

Hakyeon smiled and tugged him down by the front of his sweater for a proper kiss. “I love it when you humor me,” he said lightly.

“Well,” Hongbin said, giving him a few more kisses in quick succession just because he could, “I love watching you act as the boss.”

“My acting skills are flawless, aren’t they?” Hakyeon agreed smugly. “My high school drama teacher would be so proud.”

Hongbin snorted and muttered, “I highly doubt that.”

The door creaked open and Taekwoon ghosted in, bowing half-heartedly as he came to a stop just behind the chaise lounge and its accompanying puddle of drying blood.

Hongbin straightened and offered Taekwoon nothing more than a clipped, “Speak.”

“The hyenas have been taken care of, Boss,” Taekwoon murmured in that deceptively soft, gentle voice. Hongbin had watched him kill a man with his own tie, wrap another man’s throat in razor wire and pull until it was uncertain whether he’d died of suffocation or blood loss.

“They didn’t give you any trouble?” Hongbin asked. He already knew the answer, but it never hurt to ask. Sometimes questioning Taekwoon got him more insights into their enemies’ movements than he had before.

But Taekwoon just shrugged, drawing attention to the speckles of blood across one shoulder of his white dress shirt. “None more than usual,” he affirmed.

“Very well,” Hongbin said, and he made Taekwoon wait while he finished his martini with three large sips. “You’re dismissed. Good work today, Taekwoon.”

Taekwoon nodded, something that was almost a bow but that Hongbin wouldn’t call him out on only because of how long they’d known each other. It was hard for some of them still, to show so much deference to a man who had once been their junior in school.

Only his inner circle even knew the truth about Hongbin. The rest saw him as a pretty face, the boss’ arm candy, perfectly harmless and gentle until he was used to punish them. But never, never did any of them guess that Hongbin was the real head of the organization.

He set aside his glass and told Hakyeon, “I’m going to go wash up. Ask the servants to clean up the mess?”

Hakyeon nodded and blew him a cheeky kiss as he glided out of the room, commanding and sure and majestic even in bare feet and a blood-stained sweater.

–

Jaehwan came into Hongbin’s bathroom while he was still showering. “Can I go downstairs yet?” he whined. “It’s boring up here.”

“Jaehwan, what the hell are you doing in here,” Hongbin growled. Jaehwan had walked in on both Hongbin and Hakyeon in this same situation – and worse – way too many times. Hongbin was beyond tired of it.

“Look I just want to know if I’m allowed to go get a snack or if your creepy shadows will eat _me_ if I try,” Jaehwan said. Through the frosted-glass shower door Hongbin saw him hop up on the bathroom counter.

Hongbin sighed heavily, shoved his wet hair out of his face, and finally said, “Fine. Just don’t go in the back sitting room until Hakyeon tells you it’s okay.”

“Oh, Hongbin, you did something gross again, didn’t you? Did you guys fuck on that stupid couch that he likes so much? You’re so weird.”

Hongbin held back all of the harsh words that he _wanted_ to say, and instead told Jaehwan, “We had a meeting. Hakyeon just needs to make sure that everything is...put away before you go in there, all right?”

Jaehwan was quiet for a moment, and the next time he spoke it was a much quieter, “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Hongbin gritted out. “Just...go get your snack, okay?”

Jaehwan hopped back off the counter and said, “Suddenly I’m not that hungry. Maybe I’ll go annoy Taekwoonie.”

Hongbin didn’t even get to say _please don’t_ before he was gone. Damn, Taekwoon was going to be complaining for the next week. Probably in the most passive-aggressive way possible.

He forgot all about it a few minutes later, though, because Hakyeon slipped into the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

“God,” he said, climbing into the shower stall and releasing a plume of steam in the process. “I thought we’d never be alone.”

“Everything okay?” Hongbin asked, wondering who he’d have to throttle this time. They had a very very small inner circle and they’d all known each other for far too long. He wouldn’t put it past Wonshik or Sanghyuk to have given Hakyeon a hard time about something stupid just because they liked to see his reactions.

Hakyeon shivered, pressing his cold front to Hongbin’s warm back and dropping a kiss to his shoulder. “Fine,” he said. “I’ve just been hot for you since the meeting, and I very much wanted to have you to myself for a while.”

Hongbin smirked, turning in Hakyeon’s arms to kiss him. “Well, I happen to know that Jaehwan will be occupying himself with Taekwoon for a while, and Sanghyuk and Wonshik have better things to do this evening. I’m all yours.”

“Good,” Hakyeon mumbled, pressing his face into Hongbin’s shoulder. He shivered again, not from cold this time, as Hongbin started slowly running fingers through his hair.

“Let’s get cleaned up first and then I’ll lay you out on our bed and make love to you properly,” Hongbin suggested, worrying at a chunk of hair that was clumped together with blood.

Hakyeon nodded emphatically and bit down on the muscular part of Hongbin’s neck. “Yes please,” he said. “And while we’re at it, please wash the blood out of my hair, you absolute asshole.”

“You love it,” Hongbin insisted, grinning unrepentantly. No matter how much Hakyeon complained, he never did anything to stop it from happening again. And really, Hongbin was pretty sure that was mostly because he enjoyed this – Hongbin’s fingers in his hair, massaging shampoo into his scalp, making Hakyeon melt against him with a contented sigh.

Hakyeon didn’t reply with anything even close to a word, but he didn’t need to. Hongbin knew him top to bottom, inside and out. He could read Hakyeon better than he could read himself, sometimes.

Which was how he knew exactly how much to tease as he ran a soapy cloth over Hakyeon’s skin, when to touch and when to brush past Hakyeon’s dick as though he didn’t even realize that it was there.

By the time they were clean and the suds had been rinsed off, Hakyeon was so keyed up his body was practically vibrating with want. He squeezed Hongbin’s ass with both hands and growled, “ _Please,_ ” and Hongbin couldn’t do anything but indulge him.

He dried Hakyeon reverently, from his head down to his incredibly shapely feet, and he was not biased if it was the absolute truth that Hakyeon was perfection in every one of his parts. And as soon as they were dry, Hakyeon reclined himself on the silk sheets of their 17th-century four-poster bed with the ease of someone who knew that he belonged in such luxury.

He was glowing, radiant in the dim light of a few scattered lamps, and his hair dark and still falling in damp clumps across his forehead. Hongbin simply stood there for a moment, admiring him. To think that this man, this image of perfection, firm muscle beneath supple skin and face very likely chiseled by the gods, was all his to adore, to worship. It was breathtaking.

Hakyeon whined, high and plaintive. “Oh my god please come ravish me. Do I have to do all the work myself?”

Hongbin shook himself out of his thoughts and crawled across the bed towards Hakyeon. He laid himself out beside him and ran one teasing hand from the inside of one knee all the way to the opposite nipple. Hakyeon gasped and twitched and then arched beneath his touch, spitting curses, and Hongbin reveled in it.

A few caresses to Hakyeon’s nipple, a biting pinch, and then his hand moved on, gripping Hakyeon’s hip for leverage as he leaned over him. His tongue came out, soothed over the abused nipple, circled it a few times before he moved on to the other.

“I hate you so much,” Hakyeon breathed, his fingers threading in Hongbin’s hair and very much belying his words. “Why do you always do this? Is it punishment for treating you like a plaything in front of the lackeys? Because I can tone it down.”

 _“Baby,"_   Hongbin said, voice smooth like velvet to make Hakyeon shiver. “This isn’t a punishment. It’s a reward. Enjoy it.”

Hakyeon huffed and his fingers spasmed when Hongbin scraped his teeth over his throat and he hissed, “Liar. If this is a reward, it’s definitely for you. You just like my body.”

Hongbin chuckled, licked from Hakyeon’s pulse point to a spot behind his ear, and asked, “Can you blame me?”

“No, I guess not,” Hakyeon agreed, laughing breathlessly himself. “But I swear to god if you don’t touch my dick soon I’m going to punch you.”

“Noted,” Hongbin said, and decided to have mercy. He slid his hand around Hakyeon’s hip to his groin, tracing the dips and planes of his pelvis for just a moment before he finally put his hand where Hakyeon wanted it most.

Hakyeon was already fully hard and leaking. It was easy to spread his precum a bit to smooth things out as Hongbin stroked him slowly.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he requested, peppering kisses behind Hakyeon’s ear.

Hakyeon snorted a little, shoved Hongbin’s face away, and said, “How about I just show you?”

He rolled to his side, clearly being careful not to dislodge Hongbin’s hand just yet, and reached over their heads to the ledge on the headboard where they kept the lube. He coated a few of his fingers, making sure that they were in Hongbin’s line of sight the whole time, and then reached behind Hongbin.

Hongbin arched an eyebrow but didn’t otherwise comment as Hakyeon’s fingers circled his entrance. Instead, he hitched his top leg up over Hakyeon’s hip to give him room to work. It had been a while since they’d done it this way, but Hongbin was game for whatever when it came to Hakyeon. Everything they did together was good.

It did help to know that if he hadn’t been in the mood for that, he could have said something and Hakyeon would have stretched himself instead, or chosen something else altogether. They’d been together for nearly six years and had been sleeping together for most of that time. There was no shame between them.

But bottoming actually sounded like exactly what he needed right then, and the first finger slid in easily. Hakyeon took his time preparing him, gliding that one finger slow and steady.

Hongbin couldn’t help but tease, “I thought you were in a hurry?”

Hakyeon shushed him but did finally press a second finger in beside the first. His other hand he twined through Hongbin’s hair again, urged him forward and kissed him slow and deep. “Maybe I changed my mind,” he murmured when they parted for air.

Hongbin hummed, adjusted a little to give Hakyeon more room to work, and settled in to enjoy the ride. “Whatever you want, baby.”

“I love you,” Hakyeon said, nothing but serious, and kissed him again.

“Love you too,” Hongbin replied, just as somber, and then gave Hakyeon’s dick a few tugs before letting go. Hakyeon whined at him, but he was too busy getting his hands on other parts of Hakyeon to be terribly concerned. He would have that inside him soon enough. Hakyeon could wait another minute.

It was so much fun to run his fingers over Hakyeon’s spine, to trace the lines of his ribs along his thin back, to trace kisses along his neck and jaw before making his way back to his mouth. They didn’t do soft and gentle that often, were too abrasive and bloodthirsty for it to be practical most days. But Hongbin was feeling lazy and contented. Long, slow lovemaking sounded amazing.

Hakyeon added a third finger, spread them wide and let Hongbin adjust to the stretch. It _had_ been a while since he’d done this, admittedly, but Hongbin was familiar with both his own body and Hakyeon’s, and he knew that he’d be fine.

So he rolled them until Hakyeon was settled comfortably between his legs and said, “Have at it.”

“Wow,” Hakyeon said, rolling his eyes, and pulled his fingers out. “You’re so romantic. Really gets me hot, the way you dirty talk.”

Hongbin laughed and kicked one of his heels into the back of Hakyeon’s leg. “I tried romance earlier and you got impatient, remember? Now please get in me.”

Hakyeon huffed as though he was terribly put out, but he slicked himself up and then slowly pressed inside Hongbin. The slide was good, maybe just a little too wet, but Hongbin reveled in it, in the feel of his lover inside him, stretching him wide.

Then Hakyeon braced his hands on either side of Hongbin’s head and started to _move_. He panted softly, little grunts of effort with every thrust. Hongbin knew and loved those sounds the same way he knew and loved everything about Hakyeon, and so he curled his arms around Hakyeon’s back, dug his blunt nails into Hakyeon’s skin and moved with him.

“God,” Hakyeon hissed. He was adjusting, trying to get his knees under him for more leverage. Hongbin knew exactly what he was doing and did it for him, wrapping one leg more firmly around Hakyeon’s hip and shifting until Hakyeon could hit his prostate with almost every thrust. “Fuck, Hongbin, how are you so good at this?”

Hongbin moaned instead of answering, pulling Hakyeon down by the nape of his neck for more kisses. “Fuck, I love you,” he gasped.

Hakyeon’s slow, steady thrusts were just enough to get them both to the edge and keep them there, but not enough to push them over. They had, more than once in the past, literally made love for hours on end, the slowest, gentlest rocking motion they possibly could. But that usually led to chafing.

So he tweaked one of Hakyeon’s nipples and then raked his blunt nails down Hakyeon’s side, careful to avoid the long scar that ran across his belly and part of his hip. “Harder, baby,” he murmured, letting his hot breath rush across Hakyeon’s ear.

Hakyeon shivered and renewed his efforts, wrapping his fingers around Hongbin’s dick and giving him what he wanted. A flood of heat filled Hongbin, up through his belly and into his chest until he wasn’t sure whether the feeling was pleasure or unadulterated love for this man, this completely insane man who was with him – who had _stayed_ with him – in spite of what he was.

Another thrust, and another, and then Hongbin lost track and just tugged Hakyeon in, kissed him hard and deep and filthy.

He moaned his release into Hakyeon’s mouth, felt Hakyeon’s answering sound hot and wet against his lips, felt his cock jerk inside him.

Hakyeon stayed, completely still but for a minute tremor in all of his muscles, for several long moments before he sighed and lowered himself down onto Hongbin’s wider chest.

Hongbin couldn’t help a little half-snort of amusement at Hakyeon unrepentantly lying down in a puddle of cum, but he just wrapped his arms securely around Hakyeon’s back.

Once he’d gotten his breath back enough to speak, Hakyeon said, “I guess I’ll keep you,” as though he’d just decided.

“Thanks, love you too,” Hongbin said wryly. He traced the line of Hakyeon’s spine from the very top of his neck, down the bumps of his vertebrae to the crest of his ass, where he settled his palm comfortably.

They laid there until Hongbin could tell that Hakyeon was starting to fall asleep. “Come on, get off me,” he said, much less gruffly than he would if Hakyeon’s soft-sleepy face wasn’t right there. “I’ll go get a washcloth and clean us up if you just roll over.”

Hakyeon made a pitiful noise but did finally flop over onto his back and immediately close his eyes again.

Hongbin smiled, completely fond and totally whipped, and took a moment to smooth Hakyeon’s sweaty hair out of his face before he got up.

By the time he’d cleaned himself up and returned from the bathroom with a cloth for Hakyeon, his lover was already asleep. But that was alright. Hongbin didn’t mind taking care of him.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops this got some plot. Dubcon tag is just to be safe, see end notes for the reasons for that if you're worried.
> 
> New pairing! These two may have sort of taken over the story a little bit. I hope y'all like Keo. There will be more substantial plot in the next chapter, which I have written and just in need of final edits. I'm gonna call it regular Thursday updates, at least for a bit. We'll see how long I can keep this momentum.
> 
> ...oh also _geondal_ , Google informs me, is the Korean word for a member of an organized gang - as opposed to the more well-known _ggangpae_ , which is more of a street thug. Just FYI.

 

Taekwoon was so much fun to tease.

Jaehwan had discovered that roughly...three days after moving into Hongbin’s ridiculous house? When their parents had reached the final straw and disowned him, Hongbin had taken him in with very few questions asked, and the only thing he’d requested in return was that Jaehwan not ask too many questions himself.

Jaehwan could do that. He was naturally curious by nature but he  _ was _ capable of reining it in when needed. And he was also good at simply finding himself distractions.

Like Taekwoon, for instance, who was sullen and taciturn but smiled so sweetly and softly when he thought no one was watching him. Who Jaehwan could hear sometimes, usually very late at night, singing quietly to himself behind the closed door of his bedroom.

He was such an interesting paradox. Jaehwan couldn’t help poking the bear, so to speak, and Taekwoon’s reactions just made it  _ more fun _ .

When Jaehwan walked directly into Taekwoon’s room, flinging the door open so hard that it nearly rebounded off the wall, he was gratified to see Taekwoon whip around in surprise.

The knife that magically appeared in his hand was a bit overkill, and Jaehwan was frankly very confused where it had even come from because Taekwoon was basically wearing underwear and nothing else, but he’d gotten used to shit like that.

“Honey, I’m home!” Jaehwan crowed, and then flopped dramatically onto Taekwoon’s bed like he belonged there.

Taekwoon didn’t growl at him, but he looked like he wanted to. “Why are you in my room,” he asked instead, his voice that carefully flat tone that Jaehwan reveled in breaking.

Jaehwan rolled his head in Taekwoon’s direction to look at him half upside-down. “I was bored. And Hongbin said I couldn’t go downstairs yet unless I want to see  _ unspeakable things. _ ” He was joking, mostly. He knew he was better off not knowing what Hongbin’s business actually was. He knew there were a lot of things about this place that he was better off not knowing.

Taekwoon sighed heavily and turned back to his dresser. He laid the knife (six inches long at least, and shining rainbow like that would make it seem less deadly than it was) down on top of the dresser before he returned to picking out clothes like this was completely normal. For him, Jaehwan knew, it probably was. “What do you want, Jaehwan?”

“I told you; I’m  _ bored _ ,” Jaehwan said. He looked away as though he was being polite while Taekwoon started pulling on a pair of sweatpants. There was a white dress shirt on top of the pile of laundry in the corner and it had suspicious brown stains along one side. He had to make an active decision not to analyze that further. “Entertain me.”

With a huff that was barely audible, Taekwoon turned around to eye Jaehwan. He was still shirtless, and Jaehwan’s mouth went a little dry at the sight.

“You know,” he said, because he couldn’t just  _ not _ , “if someone came in right now, they’d think you were trying to take advantage of me.”

“Don’t pretend that’s not exactly what you were looking for when you came in here,” Taekwoon said. His voice was still low and flat but Jaehwan had more practice at reading him than most. He was so, so close to losing his composure, so close to letting go and being  _ human _ instead of the robot that he liked to pretend that he was.

Jaehwan swallowed thickly and admitted, “Well, if I did manage to tempt you, that would definitely be an added bonus. Assuming your dick even works, robot-man. Do you have enough feelings for that?”

Taekwoon growled lowly, kicked the door shut, and then stalked over to the bed where Jaehwan still lay, staring up at him.

“Be gentle with me,” Jaehwan teased, his voice a few notches higher than normal. “I’m just a delicate girl, innocent to the ways of men.” He laid the back of his hand on his forehead, playing it up as much as he could.

With another barely-there growl, Taekwoon climbed over him and bit down on the swell of his shoulder through his shirt. He made his way over to Jaehwan’s clavicle, tugging the loose collar out of the way as he went, switching at random between harsh bites and soothing kisses.

Jaehwan gasped and writhed beneath him and egged him on with more taunts, “Is that the best you’ve got? Have you ever even done this before?”

And Taekwoon hissed, “I’ll make you remember,” and renewed his efforts, pulling Jaehwan’s clothes off roughly.

He loved it when Taekwoon lost control, when he got rough with Jaehwan. But he wasn’t quite there yet, and Jaehwan could tell because while he was yanking Jaehwan’s clothes off, he was still taking care not to actually rip them. And for all his biting he had yet to draw blood. It wasn’t  _ really good _ sex with Taekwoon unless Jaehwan was covered with bruises and had trouble walking the next day.

And what was even the point of having sex if it wasn’t  _ really good _ sex?

Obviously, the best way to provoke Taekwoon was usually with verbal barbs. But sometimes, when Jaehwan got desperate, when he was already getting breathless with the feel of Taekwoon’s hands on him, well...sometimes the easiest method was just to dig his nails into Taekwoon’s biceps, squeeze his knees around Taekwoon’s sides, and bite down on his shoulder as hard as he could.

Taekwoon hissed like an angry cat and  _ moved _ , capturing Jaehwan’s wrists and shoving them down against the mattress, surging down to take his mouth in a bruising kiss.

Jaehwan whimpered against him. He was getting hard just from Taekwoon’s rough treatment and he ground his hips against Taekwoon’s, aching for any friction he could find.

A low growl and Taekwoon pressed his whole body weight down over Jaehwan. And for all that they were the same height Taekwoon had a significant amount of muscle mass over Jaehwan’s slight form, enough to still his hips just by deciding not to move.

Whining, Jaehwan tried to thrust upward again anyway and discovered that it was impossible. “I thought you wanted me to remember?” he said between heaving breaths.

“I  _ want _ ,” Taekwoon bit out, “for you to  _ shut up _ .” He enacted this wish rather effectively simply by kissing Jaehwan again, shoving his tongue into Jaehwan’s mouth and swallowing every sound he made.

Jaehwan wasn’t about to complain. At this point there was no chance that Taekwoon  _ wouldn’t _ give him exactly what he wanted, so he was willing to just see where things went from there.

And they certainly went. Taekwoon shifted his grip so that both of Jaehwan’s wrists were trapped in one large hand, and the other he used to yank Jaehwan’s head back by the hair. The roots smarted slightly but he was fairly certain he wouldn’t have a bald spot (Taekwoon had better control than  _ that _ ) so Jaehwan just moaned lowly as Taekwoon began to suck at a patch of skin just below his jaw.

It would be purple tomorrow and everyone in the house would know what they had done, which was perhaps the reason Taekwoon always did it in such an obvious place. Possessive bastard. In the moment, Jaehwan just enjoyed the tingles of pleasure that it caused and breathed, “Taekwoon,  _ please _ .”

Taekwoon ignored him, as usual, and started on a second hickey farther down, where a high-collared shirt might hide it.

Jaehwan tried to writhe and found himself still very much pinned in place. His back was straining with the effort to arch beneath Taekwoon’s heavier body. “ _ Please _ ,” he begged again.

“Stop,” Taekwoon reprimanded, biting over the mark he’d just made. “Why do I put up with you?”

“I’m a fantastic lay?” Jaehwan offered, testing Taekwoon’s iron grip around his wrists. “And my personality is charming?”

Taekwoon snorted, a sound that may actually have been genuine amusement, and then he slid down and bit Jaehwan’s nipple too, just to be an asshole.

“Please?” Jaehwan said, slightly more hopeful this time.

It just made Taekwoon’s face darken again and he growled, “Shut up.”

But a mark in Jaehwan’s favor anyway, because he also reached for the bedside table drawer, where Jaehwan  _ knew _ the lube was kept. “Condom, please and thank you,” he reminded brightly, because frankly he had no idea where Taekwoon had been and he didn’t know him well enough to ask.

Taekwoon just huffed but brought a condom along when he retrieved the lube, throwing the little packet at Jaehwan’s face.

“No need to be so hostile when I’m just trying to keep us safe,” Jaehwan protested.

“Shut up,” Taekwoon said again. “Or do I need to get you something to occupy your mouth?”

Jaehwan brightened considerably at the idea. “Yes please,” he said, making grabby motions with his prone hands. He  _ loved _ sucking dick. Loved it almost as much as he loved getting fucked. And if he got to do both in one night, he wasn’t about to complain.

But instead of his dick, Taekwoon reached into the bedside drawer again and extracted a silk tie. He pressed Jaehwan’s hands down against the mattress with a warning to “Keep them there,” while he put the silk in Jaehwan’s mouth and tied it snugly behind his head. He used a few fingers to test the tightness and smirked when he asked, “Comfortable?”

Jaehwan glared at him for a moment, and then sighed and nodded. And then, because Taekwoon was getting too damn  _ gentle  _ for his taste, he lifted his hands and managed to slide them halfway down Taekwoon’s sides before they were slammed against the mattress again.

“I said  _ keep them there _ ,” Taekwoon growled, pretty voice gruff with tightly controlled anger. “Or do I need to tie them up too?”

Jaehwan whimpered and felt his cock pulse at the thought, but he shook his head. That would just take  _ longer _ , and he wanted Taekwoon to fuck him already.

“Good,” Taekwoon said, and let go again, sat back on his heels and just looked at Jaehwan for a moment, naked and hard and all spread out for him. Jaehwan gazed at him through his lashes, trying to look appealing, trying to make Taekwoon  _ want _ as much as he did.

Taekwoon pressed Jaehwan’s knees up, spread his legs wide and ran a finger over his hole. Another smirk, this one darker and more dangerous, and he pressed the tip of his finger in.

Jaehwan made a desperate sound, high and breathy. Taekwoon’s finger was dry but it was such a tiny intrusion, just the very very tip of his finger, not even up to the first knuckle. Just a tease.

The click of a cap and then Taekwoon was drizzling lube down over his fingers and Jaehwan’s rim. It was  _ cold _ and Taekwoon wasn’t the sort to thoughtfully warm that shit up before putting it inside someone, so of course the second his finger was slicked he was sliding it all the way in. He circled it slowly afterwards, thrusting a few times to test how tight Jaehwan was.

If Jaehwan weren’t gagged, he might inform Taekwoon that he’d already fucked himself with a dildo twice in the last twelve hours, because he was  _ bored _ when Hongbin had meetings all day. As it was, Taekwoon was just going to have to figure it out for himself.

Taekwoon, ever the quick one, was already sliding a second finger in beside the first, spreading them wide. It barely registered as a stretch for Jaehwan, just a simmering pleasure deep in his belly. He made encouraging noises, thrusting down against Taekwoon’s fingers.

He got a slap to the thigh for his efforts and Taekwoon snapped, “Hold still.”

This was the part where Jaehwan would tease him for being  _ concerned _ , but since he couldn’t talk he had to settle for snorting meaningfully and then decidedly did  _ not _ stop moving.

Taekwoon hissed darkly, bit the inside of Jaehwan’s thigh, and shoved a third finger inside him without preamble.

Jaehwan moaned and kneed Taekwoon in the side, urging him on. He wasn’t a delicate fucking princess. He wanted it hard and he wanted it  _ now _ .

He got Taekwoon surging over him, digging the condom packet out of the nest he called his bedsheets and tearing it open with his teeth. He rolled it on with practiced ease, slicked himself with the lube remaining on his hand, and then fucked straight into Jaehwan and didn’t stop until his hips smacked Jaehwan’s ass.

Jaehwan’s breath caught in his throat and his hands flew up to Taekwoon’s shoulders of their own accord.

Taekwoon pressed them back down, gripping his wrists so tight Jaehwan knew he would have bruises, and started a punishing pace.

Jaehwan  _ wailed _ , the sound muffled by the gag but still far too loud. He pulled his knees up as far as he could, wedged them around Taekwoon’s ribcage and did his best to thrust back against him.

When he was really determined, Taekwoon could fuck into him so hard Jaehwan could swear he felt Taekwoon’s dick in his throat. This was one of those times, and in that situation it was all Jaehwan could do to keep from just coming right then.

The fact that Taekwoon would mock him mercilessly for  _ weeks _ was a helpful deterrent.

Jaehwan writhed and whined, fighting Taekwoon’s hold on his wrists mindlessly as the pressure built. He wanted Taekwoon to touch his dick and at the same time he didn’t because he would definitely come too soon then.

Taekwoon’s grip loosened and then his hands slid down, palms braced on Jaehwan’s forearms instead of his wrists. He could shove Taekwoon’s hands off now if he wanted, but he didn’t care, not when Taekwoon’s dick was still spreading him open.

A high keen and Jaehwan strained upwards, reaching for he didn’t know what, and his nose brushed Taekwoon’s before Taekwoon shifted, letting go of Jaehwan’s arms altogether in favor of pressing his knees closer to his chest so he could fuck into him deeper.

Panting, desperate hot breaths through the silk in his mouth, Jaehwan didn’t even think to move his hands. He tossed his head, felt the rasp of the sheets beneath his skin, felt himself sliding up the mattress closer to the headboard with every thrust, and started babbling.

The words didn’t make sense through the gag, but Jaehwan was pretty sure he was saying, “ _ Please, please, please, _ ” and nothing else anyway.

Taekwoon seemed to understand, or he didn’t need to, because he reached around and finally got a hand around Jaehwan’s dick.

Jaehwan moaned brokenly and then he was gone, dropping over the edge with a barely-bitten-off scream as Taekwoon kept thrusting into him, chasing his own end.

He was shuddering and oversensitive by the time Taekwoon came, choking down a moan as his cock jerked inside Jaehwan.

Taekwoon was quick to pull out and roll off him as soon as he was done, discarding the condom in the overflowing trash can on the other side of the bed and then padding into his personal bathroom without stopping to acknowledge Jaehwan at all.

He tossed a wet washcloth out the door at Jaehwan, and that was really the best he had to hope for.

Jaehwan groaned and let himself lie there for another moment or two, the cloth dripping water down his sides from where it lay on his chest, before he made himself sit up and wipe off. He dropped the cloth on Taekwoon’s carpet when he was done and then got out of the bed, retrieving his clothes and tugging them on half-heartedly. It would not be the first time he’d made the walk of shame back to his own room carrying his underpants in his hand.

The tight knot of the gag was slightly harder to manage, but he did eventually get it loosened enough to remove, and he tossed it spitefully on top of the washcloth, just because he could.

In the bathroom, the shower had turned on. If their relationship were different, Jaehwan might consider going in there and joining him, maybe turning it into round two. But he and Taekwoon weren’t like that, and he was as likely to get murdered as to get more sex if he invaded any more than he already had. Better to settle for what he’d gotten and leave now while he was ahead.

He could only push Taekwoon so far before he snapped, and he’d had plenty of practice finding those lines.

–

When Sanghyuk brought his entire laptop to the breakfast table, it was never good news.

Hongbin groaned, pinched at the bridge of his nose, and prayed to buddha for patience. “Tell me I get to kill someone for whatever this is,” he begged.

Sanghyuk set his laptop down right beside the eggs with a heavy thump and dropped himself into a chair. “Only if you feel like pissing off Suho’s entire organization.”

Hongbin seriously considered that for half a heartbeat, and then decided against it. Suho and his people were good, and friends to Hongbin’s when it was convenient. It wasn’t worth an all-out war unless something very, very serious had happened.

Hakyeon set an extra-large mug of coffee between Hongbin’s palms. Hongbin gave him a brief smile and murmured, “Thanks, baby,” and then took a bracing breath before he turned back to Sanghyuk. “Quickly,” he said. “Jaehwan will be downstairs before too long.”

Wonshik muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, “I doubt that,” but Hongbin ignored him.

“Oh Sehun has been spotted in our territory several times. My informants are under the impression that he’s just been turning tricks, but I think we all know that’s not what Sehun really does.” Sanghyuk turns the laptop so that Hongbin can see the screen, half a dozen pictures scrolling by, all of them Sehun dressed in tailored suits, getting in and out of luxury cars, and one of him walking into a high-end hotel.

“You think he’s doing deals on our turf,” Hongbin said. That was the last thing they needed. They were already fighting a turf war with RM’s gang. They couldn’t afford to be a divided front right now.

“I think it’s highly likely,” Sanghyuk agreed. “But none of my people have been able to get close enough to know  _ what _ he’s doing for sure.”

“Who’s that? He’s pretty.”

Hongbin turned, already shifting to hide the laptop from view, to see Jaehwan standing in the doorway to the kitchen. He was still rubbing the sleep from his eyes and there was a hickey high up on his neck that Hongbin would be lecturing Taekwoon about later, for all that it never did anything to stop it from happening again.

Sanghyuk made a thoughtful noise. “We do need someone to get close to him.”

“Absolutely not, Sanghyuk,” Hongbin snapped, slapping the lid of the laptop closed. “Find someone else.”

“Sehun knows all of us though,” Sanghyuk pointed out. “And this seems like an inner circle kind of job, don’t you think?”

Sanghyuk didn’t have to remind Hongbin how much shit they could potentially get in if Suho or one of his caught them spying. Not to say that most organizations  _ didn’t _ have eyes planted in all the others, but it was the  _ getting caught _ part that was usually a problem. And the fact that Sehun was being so blatant about running around in their territory meant bad things for them anyway. It was like EXO  _ wanted _ a war.

Hongbin was about to shut Sanghyuk up and end the conversation right there, but Taekwoon cut in with a growl before he could. “No, Sanghyuk. He’s not one of us.”

Jaehwan, who had been looking  _ interested _ before that, damn him, suddenly deflated. Hongbin couldn’t bring himself to be upset about that, not when he agreed with Taekwoon. Jaehwan was his brother, but he wasn’t part of the  _ family _ .

“So, what,” Sanghyuk said, sounding far more flippant than he had any right to with as many dangerous men staring him down as he had right then, “we just don’t find out what Oh Sehun is up to and hope that it doesn’t fuck us over later?”

“We find someone else for the job,” Hongbin said. “The way we would if you weren’t trying to get my brother involved in things that don’t concern him.”

Sanghyuk laughed, far too bright. Asshole kid didn’t have a fearful bone in his entire body and Hongbin was going to  _ kill him  _ for it someday. “He lives here, doesn’t he?” he said. “You can’t keep him out of this forever, Hongbin.”

There was a heavy thunk that would have made them all jump, if they were different men, and their gazes all turned as one to Hakyeon, who had buried the tip of his butterknife at least two centimeters into the table. It sat there, handle quivering, as Hakyeon said darkly, “ _ Hyungnim _ .”

Sanghyuk swallowed, perhaps finally having the fear of god struck into him just a bit, and he nodded slowly. “Sorry, hyungnim,” he said. He bowed to Hongbin, not a full ninety-degree bow but low enough.

Hakyeon stood, wrenched the knife out of the heavy oak of their breakfast table as though pulling it from actual butter, and then said, “He has a point though.” He turned his gaze on Jaehwan, who was watching this all looking surprisingly unfazed. “You can’t keep it from him forever.”

Taekwoon took a step forward, looking like he was about to argue, but Hongbin cut him off with a firm gesture. He studied Jaehwan for another long moment, took in the bruises on his neck and around his wrists. He’d known about the thing between Taekwoon and his brother since it first happened. And Hongbin knew Taekwoon, knew him well enough to know that Jaehwan wasn’t still a delicate flower after three years of whatever they were doing, if he had ever been in the first place.

Jaehwan probably knew more than they all realized, living in this house. For all that they were excellent at keeping secrets from the rest of the organization, this house had always been a safe space where they didn’t  _ have _ to pretend. And Hongbin had, perhaps, taken for granted Jaehwan’s cheerful nature enough that he could disregard anything that may have slipped past their guard.

He looked Jaehwan in the eye, decided he may as well, and said, “Hyung, we’re geondal.”

“Oh,” Jaehwan said, sounding as though Hongbin had announced he was planning to buy a new shirt. “Well that explains a lot.”

Hongbin rubbed a hand over his face and admitted to himself that he really shouldn’t have been surprised. He knew that Jaehwan had been getting into some sort of trouble, which was the reason their parents had kicked him out in the first place. Hongbin had taken him in with the condition that he not ask too many questions, but that hadn’t meant that Jaehwan wouldn’t see things.

“Well,” Sanghyuk said, cheerful again and apparently already recovered from being chastised. “Does that mean that we are sending him on this mission?”

“ _ No way in hell, _ ” Taekwoon growled, looking about ready to launch himself at Sanghyuk and probably slit his throat.

“No blood on the breakfast table,” Hongbin ordered, and then pointed them to chairs as far from each other as was possible while still sitting at the same table. “Sit and eat your breakfast. We’ll talk about this later.”

Jaehwan was surprisingly chill about the whole thing. He sat down next to Taekwoon and stole food off of his plate the whole meal, presumably just because he enjoyed the way Taekwoon growled and smacked his hand away every time, since the serving dishes in the middle of the table were still plenty full. Honestly, Hongbin didn’t want to know how their relationship worked. He had a feeling that it didn’t, which was the entire problem, wasn’t it?

He hadn’t ever wanted to bring Jaehwan into the family business, but it was too late to take it back now. He just hoped that it wouldn’t fuck them all over, in the end.

–

“They’re having issues in the East Quadrant,” Wonshik reported unhappily after breakfast. He was slumped in one of the purposefully-uncomfortable antique chairs in front of the massive desk in Hongbin’s personal study. “The owners of some of the higher-end clubs are banding together and refusing to pay their protection fees.”

Hongbin sighed and rubbed his temples because this was just one fucking more thing that he had to deal with on top of what he was dealing with already. Sometimes he wondered why the fuck he’d wanted this life in the first place.

And then he’d remember old man Park, his dying wish, and he’d shut up and do his duty. He would keep VIXX strong, protect their territory and fight back against the people who tried to take any of it from them.

“Put Taekwoon on it,” he ordered. “And if that doesn’t work, start breaking kneecaps or something.”  _ Make them fear us _ , he didn’t have to say. That was the backbone of their entire operation. Wonshik, also, knew his duty.

Wonshik nodded and rose, apparently having gotten what he came for. As he left Sanghyuk entered with Jaehwan on his tail.

“He knows, then,” Hongbin said, eyeing his brother with some resignation. He had to admit that Jaehwan was probably their best bet at finding out what Oh Sehun was up to, but that didn’t mean that he had to like it.

“As much as I could tell him,” Sanghyuk agreed, perching on the edge of Hongbin’s desk because, as ever, he refused to sit in the chairs. He set his laptop down in front of Hongbin and explained, “We’re going to try to make it as natural as possible. We know where Sehun spends his free time, which clubs he frequents and the people that he hangs out with. It won’t take much for Jaehwan to make a connection that’ll lead him directly to Sehun, where he can strike up a friendship.”

Hongbin did his best to ignore Sanghyuk’s eyebrow waggle, which implied that he thought that a lot more than friendship would be brewing between Sehun and Jaehwan. Hongbin would rather not think about that more than he had to. “And that’s it?” he asked, waving his hand at the underwhelming powerpoint presentation that Sanghyuk had been scrolling through as he spoke.

“Hey, I didn’t have a lot of time to prepare, okay,” Sanghyuk complained. “But yeah, so far the plan is that he gets close enough that Sehun starts to trust him and hopefully is able to glean something. What, do you want him to start asking questions right away and probably give himself away? Because you know he’s not going to be able to deny being your brother if Sehun figures it out. That would just get us into  _ more _ trouble with Suho.”

“You’re right,” Hongbin admitted, steepling his fingers and staring at the far wall in thought. “With your plan, if he gets caught he can play the innocent much more easily. Say he had no idea who Sehun was, profess ignorance of the entire organization if he needs to.”

Sanghyuk made a pleased little noise, and it sounded too much like victory for Hongbin’s taste.

“And you, hyung?” Hongbin asked, setting his gaze on Jaehwan. “You’re sure you want to do this?”

Jaehwan shrugged and lounged back further in his seat, swinging one leg up over the arm of the chair. Hongbin had never understood Jaehwan’s ability to flawlessly switch into model mode and further why he hadn’t exploited it as a career path. “A little partying, a little harmless flirting, and you’re going to bankroll it? Sounds like fun to me.”

Hongbin bit back the pained noise that wanted to escape him and said, “Don’t let his appearance fool you, hyung. Oh Sehun is a very dangerous man. If you’re found out–”

“Oh, stop fussing, baby brother,” Jaehwan tsked, interrupting him. He rolled his head to the side to study Hongbin sidelong. “I’ll be fine. I’m more resourceful than you give me credit for. Or did you think that Mom and Dad disowned me and struck me from the family register just for my  _ proclivities _ ?”

Hongbin honestly hadn’t known that the situation with their parents was quite that bad, but then he hadn’t spoken to them much for several years. Things had been tense even before he’d taken Jaehwan in, and afterwards they hadn’t especially wanted to see Hongbin either. Which was fine, because he had other family. He didn’t  _ need  _ them.

Still, he opened his mouth to argue further, to ask again if Jaehwan was  _ absolutely positive  _ that he knew what he was getting into.

But Taekwoon interrupted this time, appearing in the doorway like a spectre and saying softly, “If he wants to go, you should let him.”

Hongbin didn’t ask where this was coming from, or whether Taekwoon was sure. He could recognize the stormy darkness in Taekwoon’s eyes even if it didn’t come through in his perpetually gentle voice, and he knew when to let sleeping tigers lie.

“Fine,” Hongbin said at last. He turned to Sanghyuk, made himself remain all business, and ordered, “Prepare him, then. Whatever he needs on the company card.”

Jaehwan squealed like an excited schoolgirl and flounced over to Taekwoon, hanging off his arm as he chirped, “I didn’t realize this would include a shopping trip!”

Taekwoon sighed heavily and shrugged him off, storming out of the room as quickly as he’d come. Jaehwan followed him, the sound of his cheerful voice trailing off to silence the deeper they went into the house.

Hongbin put his head in his hands as soon as they were gone and muttered, “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”

Sanghyuk patted his shoulder and then quickly hopped away like he  _ knew _ that Hongbin was as likely to bite his hand off as appreciate the gesture. “Don’t worry, hyungnim,” he said. He took his laptop with him and fired off a jaunty salute when he reached the doorway. “I’ll take care of him.”

“That’s not comforting!” Hongbin yelled after his retreating back as he ducked past the doorway and out of sight. As soon as Sanghyuk was gone he put his head back in his hands and mumbled to himself, “Why do I do this job?”

_ Old man Park’s dying wish _ , he reminded himself.  _ And probably a mixture of misplaced masochism and an unhealthy thirst for blood. _

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tagged it Mildly Dubious Consent because Jaehwan basically goads Taekwoon into sleeping with him. It's implied that this is a regular activity for them but their relationship is...complicated. I figured better to be safe than sorry. Read at your own risk.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's no sex in this chapter. So, you know, if that's the only reason you're here then sorry, I guess. There will be plenty of sex in future chapters, if that makes you feel better. But here is the part where we truly discover that plot thing.
> 
> Did anyone see this coming?

 

There were a thousand and one reasons why Taekwoon should never have even gotten close to the boss’ brother. First among them was that Jaehwan was  _ Hongbin’s brother _ and Hongbin wouldn’t blink twice at killing Taekwoon for touching him.

Another was that Taekwoon was a ruthless killer and Jaehwan was...not. He didn’t want to say that Jaehwan was innocent and delicate, because that wasn’t it no matter how childish he acted sometimes. There was something in Jaehwan that Taekwoon hadn’t been able to interpret, some hardness behind his eyes that he was far too good at disguising.

When Jaehwan stepped out of the dressing room at the tailor shop wearing a heathered brown, three-piece suit that fit him far too well for a garment that hadn’t even been altered yet, Taekwoon’s mouth went dry. Jaehwan stepped up on the little pedestal and tugged at his cuffs, settling the jacket on his shoulders.

The tailor started hovering around Jaehwan, pinning hems and darts, but Taekwoon barely noticed him.

Jaehwan caught him staring in the floor-length mirrors and gave Taekwoon a lopsided smirk. “Like what you see?” he asked coyly.

Taekwoon swallowed, cleared his face down to his usual emotionless mask again, and didn’t answer. For some reason that only made Jaehwan smirk more, and Taekwoon had no idea why.

“I think I may need a few more casual options too,” Jaehwan said to Sanghyuk, who was slouched on a sofa on the far side of the room, staring down at his phone and not paying either of them any attention. There was a reason that Taekwoon tended to get sent on outings like this. For all that Sanghyuk was brilliant, he could not be trusted to watch his own back.

Sanghyuk just waved a hand in acknowledgement. “We’ll stop off at the department store next, then,” he said absently. “You’ll need accessories, anyway.”

Taekwoon hadn’t realized that having Jaehwan befriend Oh Sehun would mean sending him in dressed like a corporate heir, but he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. There were two qualities that Oh Sehun was known to favor, and with the right wardrobe Jaehwan would have both: wealth and sex appeal.

Taekwoon just wanted the day to be over already, because Jaehwan was sending him smoldering looks in the mirror and Taekwoon could almost hear the taunts that would be coming out of his mouth if they were alone and he just wanted to  _ bite _ Jaehwan. He wanted to tie him up and tease him until he begged for mercy. Which he realized wasn’t the safest thought to be having, especially in the middle of a semi-public place.

Hongbin hadn’t ordered that Taekwoon avoid leaving any...unsavory marks on Jaehwan right before the mission began, but with the look he’d given Taekwoon he hadn’t needed to. They couldn’t risk it.

Sanghyuk slid the tailor an extra fifty when Jaehwan’s fitting was done and told him, “We’ll send a runner for them in the morning.”

The less Jaehwan was seen with them the better, even if they were sticking strictly to their own territory. Suho had eyes everywhere; there were (preposterous) rumors that one of his inner circle was a seer. Sanghyuk always insisted that his spymaster was just especially proficient.

Taekwoon was grateful that he was driving, because he didn’t think he could have handled sitting next to Jaehwan in the back of the car with the image of him in that last suit still fresh in his mind. It was much easier to distract himself while paying attention to traffic and trying not to hit any pedestrians.

Sanghyuk was still on his phone. He was always on his goddamned phone, but Taekwoon really wished that he would get off the fucking thing for one minute so that Jaehwan would talk to him instead of leaning forward in his seat (seatbelt-less, because he couldn’t follow basic safety rules, damn him) and asking Taekwoon, “Which store are we going to?”

“The garbage dump. Where you belong,” Taekwoon muttered, gripping the steering wheel so that his knuckles turned white.

Jaehwan pouted at him. “That’s not very nice,” he whined. “And here I was starting to think that you might like me.”

Taekwoon took too sharp a right and Jaehwan had to brace himself on Taekwoon’s headrest so he wouldn’t go flying into the door. His fingers were far too close to Taekwoon’s neck for comfort, but Taekwoon refused to move. “I hate your stupid face,” he informed Jaehwan, as dryly as he was able. “Now put on your seatbelt.”

He could tell it didn’t work when he saw Jaehwan smirk at him out of the corner of his eye. “Aw, see, I knew you cared somewhere under that frosty exterior you project!”

Taekwoon wondered if punching him fell under the ‘don’t leave any marks’ rule, and if Hongbin would be able to fault him even if it did.

“Stop,” Sanghyuk said suddenly. He’d been utterly silent the entire drive but the sudden sharp command made Taekwoon’s foot go instinctually to the brake pedal. “Take your next left.”

“What’s wrong?” Taekwoon asked, casually darting through three lanes of traffic and swinging through the intersection just as the light turned red.

Sanghyuk didn’t answer for a long, tense moment, his fingers flying across his phone screen. “Second right,” he said. Then, “We have a tail.”

Jaehwan sat back very slowly and then his seatbelt clicked into place. A glance in the rearview mirror told Taekwoon that he’d gone pale. There was no humor on his face.

But he didn’t have time to deal with Jaehwan’s feelings right then, because he was whipping around another corner and then demanding, “Who? One of Suho’s?” They had no reason to think that any more of Suho’s people would be infringing on their territory. It was strange enough that Oh Sehun had been; they had at least a tremulous truce with EXO.

“No,” Sanghyuk said, sounding strained. “Damn it all, I really wish I had my laptop right now.” He slipped a pair of glasses onto his face and then kept typing on his phone without looking at it. “They’re not RM’s, either, unless he sent some lackeys that are really low on the food chain after us.”

Jaehwan twisted to look out the back window, made a pained noise, and told them, “I know who it is.”

“ _ Excuse me? _ ” Sanghyuk snapped, though he didn’t bother turning to look at Jaehwan. “Why the fuck would you know?”

“I’ll explain later,” Jaehwan insisted. “But let’s just say you don’t want to see what’ll happen if they catch up to us.”

Sanghyuk grunted an acknowledgement to that and snapped, “Left turn, Taekwoon.”

Taekwoon took the turn about half a second before they would have missed the intersection entirely and narrowly avoided getting them T-boned by a delivery truck coming from the other way. Horns blared and tires screeched but he ignored them and then took another left immediately after on Sanghyuk’s word, down a narrow alleyway that he wasn’t sure was even meant for cars.

He finally saw what Sanghyuk was seeing, as a beige SUV turned into the alley behind them. It fit into the small space even worse than their subtle black luxury sedan. Taekwoon was actually a little surprised that its mirrors weren’t scraping the brick walls on either side.

And then the fuckers started shooting.

“Get down!” Taekwoon hissed, about two seconds before the first bullet hit the reinforced back window. It cracked but didn’t shatter, and from the corner of his eye Taekwoon saw Jaehwan sink down until Taekwoon could feel his knees pressing into the back of his seat and put his arms over his head. “Where the hell did they get guns?”

If it was possible, Jaehwan looked even paler. “Long story,” he might have mumbled.

“That’s definitely a story we’re going to need you to tell later,” Sanghyuk said, and then quickly added, “Taekwoon, right!”

The tires squealed as Taekwoon swung the car around the corner. He might have scraped the side of the car against the building, just a bit. Hakyeon was going to kill him for ruining the paint job – not that the idiots with guns weren’t doing a pretty good job of that already.

“Taekwoon, I need you to get across the Han River without them following you,” Sanghyuk said, his voice surprisingly  _ un _ -tense considering the situation.

“Are you  _ crazy? _ ” Taekwoon demanded, turning down the next side street anyway, already mentally mapping the most indirect route across the river that he could take. One of the bigger bridges, get lost in the traffic, they wouldn’t risk shooting with so many witnesses around. He hoped.

Sanghyuk ducked under the seat and came back up with a familiar black case in his hands. “Just do it,” he said. “I’ll distract them.”

When Sanghyuk rolled down his window, stuck his arm out, and  _ returned fire _ , Taekwoon knew they were in deep shit. They didn’t use guns, not if they could help it, because for all Hongbin’s bloodlust and ruthlessness, he had some morals. They were already so much more powerful than most of their opponents; using firearms too would just be cruel.

So Taekwoon focused on taking his winding path through the city as quickly as he could. He screeched through red lights and narrowly avoided collisions and ignored the way horns blared as he passed, and he didn’t slow down until long after Sanghyuk had ducked back into the car and the beige SUV still seemed nowhere to be found. The back window was a maze of cracks, but somehow it had held.

“I think we lost them,” Sanghyuk said evenly, tucking the gun back into its case and returning it to its place beneath the seat.

“Should I redirect, then?” Taekwoon asked carefully. Technically, he outranked Sanghyuk. Technically, but Sanghyuk was better at subtlety and espionage. He was their spymaster for a reason.

Sanghyuk shook his head. “Keep going. We’ll be in and out before RM’s people even know we were there.”

“Wait, isn’t RM the guy we’re like, at war with or something?” Jaehwan piped up. Taekwoon couldn’t see him in the mirror and could only assume that he was curled up on the floor between the seats.

“Or something,” Sanghyuk agreed, looking distracted again. They’d only really had time for a brief rundown of how the organization worked, covering for Jaehwan the most important details first. He would have time to learn everything else later, they’d assumed at the time. When they knew he could be trusted with more information without getting himself into trouble.

Jaehwan huffed one of his overly put-upon breaths and heaved himself back up onto the seat. He was still pale but seemed no worse for wear otherwise. “So why are we going into his territory?”

“Because I have a contact here,” Sanghyuk said. “A sort of neutral party.”

“And you couldn’t just call him because…?”

Sanghyuk sliced a glare over at Jaehwan, and Taekwoon felt his hackles raise automatically. “Because I refuse to take you back to our boss’ inner sanctum until I’ve assured myself that you’re trustworthy. Even if you are his brother.”

Taekwoon felt an argument bubbling in his throat but forced it down. He really had no grounds for defending Jaehwan and he knew it. Until they knew who had been pursuing them and how much Jaehwan had lied about, they couldn’t risk letting him near Hongbin again.

They sat in silence for longer than was comfortable, and then finally Jaehwan ran a hand through his hair, slumped back in his seat, and sighed, “Fair enough.”

Taekwoon kept driving and tried not to look too closely at the resignation on Jaehwan’s face. He looked like a man going to war, one who had no hope of coming out alive. Taekwoon had seen it on a hundred men. Jaehwan thought they were going to kill him, and Taekwoon couldn’t even assure him that they wouldn’t. Because he knew that regardless of his feelings on the matter, if Jaehwan was a threat to Hongbin, he would eliminate that threat by any means necessary.

–

Jaehwan didn’t know where he’d expected to find Sanghyuk’s contact, but it certainly wasn’t in a dilapidated rooftop apartment that was completely surrounded by growing things. Seriously, this person’s garden rivaled some farms that Jaehwan had seen.

Sanghyuk knocked briskly three times on the front door and it took about four seconds to pop open, releasing a lanky man with soft brown hair who flung himself at Sanghyuk with a screech of, “My love, you’ve returned!”

Sanghyuk shoved him away with a hand to the middle of his face and said, “Can it, Sungjae. I need to borrow your rig.”

“Ooh, one of  _ those _ problems, huh?” The man – Sungjae – said, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Not  _ that _ rig, you fantastic pervert,” Sanghyuk griped. He did actually turn and eye Jaehwan, humming thoughtfully for a moment before he reiterated, “Definitely not. I doubt we need restraints for this one. Something tells me he’s not going to run.” He smiled sweetly at Jaehwan, and Jaehwan felt a sickly shiver go down his spine.

“I’ll behave,” he said quietly. He’d walked politely between Sanghyuk and Taekwoon all the way up here, even when there were a thousand ways he could have escaped, including just jumping off the side of the metal staircase part of the way up and making a break for it.

“I’ll watch him,” Taekwoon said, his voice the coldest Jaehwan had ever heard it. Maybe that was why he hadn’t run – he hated seeing Taekwoon like this. Hated that he’d put that look on Taekwoon’s face, like he was closing off his emotions as though that would stop it from hurting if he had to kill Jaehwan.

Jaehwan didn’t want Taekwoon to have any reason to do that. He followed quietly when Sungjae led them into the apartment.

It wasn’t a big place, but about a third of it was taken up with the most complicated computer setup Jaehwan had ever seen. There were at least a dozen monitors, all showing different things, some of which were definitely security camera footage.

There was a mattress shoved haphazardly in the corner of the kitchen area, presumably because there wasn’t room for it anywhere else, as the rest of the apartment looked like...well...a torture chamber. Which wasn’t exactly reassuring, considering why they’d come here.

But Taekwoon shoved Jaehwan down into an ordinary wooden chair and took up guard behind him. Sungjae just watched like he was laughing silently at them for a moment and then turned away.

“So what did this one do?” he asked Sanghyuk, as Sanghyuk settled into the leather rolling chair in front of the computer setup and started typing.

“That’s what I want to know,” Sanghyuk replied.

Jaehwan got to watch as all of his public records casually spread themselves across several of the monitors, and then some of his not-so-public records joined them. He didn’t bother protesting the invasion of his privacy. He was sure they would do worse before this was over.

Sungjae was leaning over Sanghyuk’s shoulder, eyes scanning the screens quickly. “Looks pretty clean on paper,” he said casually.

“I know,” Sanghyuk said, as though this wasn’t news to him. “That’s why I’d like to know why the hell he managed to end up with gunmen chasing him.”

Sungjae whistled lowly. “Damn, not even regular thugs, but someone with enough pull to get illegal weapons? That’s a big thing to miss.”

Sanghyuk’s eyes narrowed as he twirled the chair to eye Jaehwan, dislodging Sungjae in the process. “So?” he said. “Who were they?”

Jaehwan closed his eyes. Officially, he wasn’t supposed to tell anyone about this. He could get into even deeper shit than he was in now if he did. But this wasn’t just any group of gangsters, it was Hongbin’s family. And he didn’t want to do anything that would hurt his baby brother. “My previous employer,” he said on a heavy exhale.

He felt Taekwoon stiffen behind him, he was standing so close.

Sanghyuk leaned forward, elbows on his knees and appearing far more casual than Jaehwan knew he was. “Who? Not RM or Suho, we’ve eliminated them already, but...Shownu?” His eyes narrowed when Jaehwan showed no reaction. “Fuck, it’s not Heechul, is it?”

Jaehwan shook his head. “Not geondal,” he said, trying to keep his voice even. God, there was a reason that he’d left it all behind.

“Then who the fuck–” Sungjae started, and then subsided when Sanghyuk threw him a sharp glance.

Jaehwan took a deep breath, and watched Sanghyuk with an unwavering gaze. “If I tell you this, you have to swear to me that it doesn’t leave the inner circle. If they find out that I told even that many people, you’ll wish you’d let those men kill me today.”

Sanghyuk studied him for a long moment, and then he said casually, “Sungjae, it might be best if you left the room for this.”

Jaehwan kept his gaze on Sanghyuk, but from the corner of his eye he could see Sungjae raise his hands in surrender as he said, “Okay man, take all the time you need. I’d rather not put my life at risk if that’s all the same to you.” He left and the door clicked shut behind him.

“Okay,” Sanghyuk said. “You’ll tell me everything, and then I decide whether to take you back to Hongbin in one piece or to deliver your head to him on a platter.” His eyes said that he was very definitely not joking, so Jaehwan chose to respond in kind.

“I was a double agent,” he murmured, keeping his voice low for a number of reasons, “sent to infiltrate Kim Jong Un’s inner circle.”

Taekwoon made a noise like he’d been punched in the gut, so soft it was almost inaudible, except to Jaehwan who had been attuned to the tiniest reactions from Taekwoon for  _ years _ .

Sanghyuk just waited.

Jaehwan raked a hand through his hair, uncaring that the sudden movement put both of the other men on alert. “Things went to shit,” he said, the worst oversimplification ever. “I still don’t know how my cover was blown, but I was tortured for three months before the extraction team managed to get me out. By then, I was convinced they weren’t coming at all, and I’d started to talk.”

“You would have marks,” Taekwoon said suddenly, the first words he’d spoken since they walked in. “I know what torture looks like, Jaehwan. You don’t–”

“Have scars?” Jaehwan said, craning his neck to look up at Taekwoon. “There’s a reason I always want to fuck face to face, and it has nothing to do with sentiment.”  _ Liar _ , a little part of him said.  _ It  _ had _ nothing to do with sentiment. But that’s not true anymore, is it? _

“That doesn’t make sense,” Sanghyuk put in, before things could devolve any more than they had. “You get tortured, you talk, and when you get home you’re just...what, sent back to your ordinary life?”

“I was a security risk,” Jaehwan told him. He couldn’t help the self-deprecating smile even as it felt wrong on his face. “Obviously they couldn’t leave me there to give the communists even more of our secrets, but I couldn’t be trusted anymore, either. They stripped me of my security clearance, my rank, and sent me home in shame. As far as anyone here knew, I’d simply made an embarrassing mistake and I’d been dishonorably discharged for it. I was a disgrace, but no longer dangerous. For the most part.”

Sanghyuk scrubbed his hands over his face, looking like he’d really like to kill something. “Do you believe this pile of shit, Hyung?” he asked, looking over Jaehwan’s head.

Taekwoon was silent for longer than was probably warranted. When he finally spoke, it was to address Jaehwan. “Take off your shirt.”

Jaehwan did it quietly, unbuttoning the cuffs first and then the row of buttons down the front. When he shrugged it off his shoulders, laying it carefully across his lap, he heard Taekwoon’s sharp intake of breath. “See? This is why I didn’t want to do it doggy-style,” he said, trying for humor and falling flat.

He wasn’t expecting Taekwoon’s fingers on his back, and he certainly wasn’t expecting how delicately they traced over one of the deepest scars, a long line just to the left of his spine. “This wasn’t just torture,” Taekwoon whispered, as though to himself.

“You sure?” Jaehwan asked, still pushing for a light tone and failing, “Because that’s what it felt like at the time.”

He didn’t need Taekwoon to say what he knew already. He prayed that he wouldn’t, actually, because Jaehwan could deal with a lot of things, but he wasn’t sure that he could deal with that. He couldn’t listen to Taekwoon’s soft, sweet voice say, ‘they were experimenting on you’ and not think of that every time he heard Taekwoon talk again for the rest of ever.

Fortunately, Taekwoon stayed silent, though his fingers never left Jaehwan’s skin.

–

The ornate stained-glass window on the southwest side of Hongbin’s personal study was alight with the sun that slanted through it at this time of day. He’d always found the wash of colors peaceful.

There was nothing peaceful about this moment.

“You’re telling me that you were a secret agent,” he said to his brother, who sat cowed and uncharacteristically quiet on the other side of the wide mahogany desk. Instead of his usual sprawl, his back was ramrod straight and his head bowed in contrition. “You.”

A corner of Jaehwan’s mouth turned up and he said quietly, “I was very, very good at my job.”

The implication was there that he’d been playacting in front of them – in front of  _ Hongbin _ – this whole time. Hongbin needed a drink.

Wonshik set a glass of scotch in front of him without being asked. Hongbin hadn’t even noticed him going to the cabinet.

Hongbin picked it up but didn’t drink it, staring into the swirl of amber liquid as he slowly rotated the glass. “So has everything you said to me been a lie from the beginning, or did you slip some truths in there to keep things interesting?”

Jaehwan took a shuddering breath, like he might be about to cry. “Oyabun–”

“ _ Stop _ ,” Hongbin growled, before the word was fully out of his mouth. “You don’t get to call me absolute leader and pretend that this will be easier if we’re no longer related. That’s not how it works, Hyung.”

“It was,” Jaehwan whispered, like it was torn from him before he could stop himself. He bit his lip afterward and his head ducked lower.

Hongbin waited a moment, and when nothing more seemed forthcoming he said, “Excuse me?”

“Mom and Dad–” Jaehwan said, and then went silent again.

But Hongbin saw the problem. He understood, perhaps, what had happened between them and Jaehwan, what had caused a rift they’d deemed irreparable. “Do they know?”

Jaehwan made a noise that was probably a sniffle, but like he was trying to disguise it. Droplets of water darkened the fabric of his pale jeans and his fingers clenched into the material around his knees like that would stop his crying. “I came home in  _ disgrace _ , Hongbin,” he whispered, his voice torn and broken. “I was supposed to come home a hero, the man responsible for finally ending a decades-long war. Instead I was dishonorably discharged, all of my accomplishments were forever wiped from the records, and I was returned to our parents broken and less than half the man I used to be.”

Hongbin held his breath, watching Jaehwan’s shoulders shake.

“And they lived with it because I was their son, the only one they truly had left.” Jaehwan swiped the back of one hand beneath his nose and didn’t seem to notice the way that statement lanced through Hongbin’s chest. “They lived with it until they couldn’t anymore, until the drinking was too much, until they got tired of watching me parade a new man through their house every night. And when they confronted me, demanding to know why I was so useless, why I couldn’t even do my military service correctly like a proper citizen….”

He’d stopped again, but Hongbin could read between the lines. “You told them everything,” he said.

“I told them  _ nothing _ _ , _ ” Jaehwan hissed, surprising him. “It didn’t matter. Either way, I was a disgrace. Knowing what I’d done would only hurt them more.”

Hongbin sat back and finally drank his scotch, all in one long pull. Wonshik poured him another as soon as the glass had been set down. He was going to need another  _ bottle _ before this was over.

“Why speak up now?” Hakyeon wanted to know. He’d been hovering at Hongbin’s left since the sorry little band had come back in their ruined car.

Jaehwan finally looked up. His cheeks were tear-stained and there was a clear dribble of snot trickling down towards his upper lip but he didn’t seem to notice. “You and yours are in danger because of me. I couldn’t keep you in the dark. Not about this.”

“You said telling us could  _ put us _ in danger,” Sanghyuk interjected, sounding strained.

Hongbin looked to Jaehwan for an answer to that, and got only...morose resignation. “Is that true, Hyung?” he asked, more sharply than he’d meant to.

Jaehwan sighed and finally wiped his face with his shirt sleeve, even though tears continued to trickle slowly from his eyes. “Yes and no,” he began, haltingly. “The men who were after me today – the ones who shot at us – are bounty hunters, or something like it. The extraction team who got me out made it look like I’d escaped with the help of one or two people on the inside. In the North, there’s still a warrant out for my arrest. Knowing about them will keep you safe.”

“And the danger?” Hakyeon asked, the look in his eyes starting to go wild. Hongbin reached out for him, tangled their fingers together and hoped that it would serve to calm both of them. He took a sip of his drink.

“I was stripped of my rank, and every record of my real service was destroyed. Officially, at least. But they’re still keeping tabs on me. I was high-ranking – I climbed very far, very fast and was sent on this mission for a number of reasons – and I had...a lot of information that could hurt our government very, very badly.” Jaehwan said the last as though it was a crude understatement and he knew it, but also had very little idea how to properly put the situation into words. He hung his head again, but his shoulders were firm.

Hongbin recognized the steel in him. He’d just never expected to see it in his foolish brother. “You’re saying that the government could come knocking at our door,” he murmured, and finished another glass of scotch. He desperately wanted a third, but he knew he really shouldn’t have any more. The second was more than enough.

“I’m sorry,” Jaehwan said, soft and piteous like he knew that it wasn’t anywhere near enough.

“In case you hadn’t noticed,” Hongbin said, waving around the richly-decorated study with his cut-crystal scotch glass, “what we do isn’t exactly legal.”

Jaehwan’s fingertips dug into his legs again and he gritted out, “I’m aware of that.”

Hongbin was on his feet in the next moment and the scotch glass was shattering against the far wall. “You came into my house  _ knowing _ that you were putting me and mine into danger!” he shouted, far beyond his usual quietly unsettling anger. “You waltzed right in, knowing what you were doing, and I didn’t ask any–”

The rage fell away as quickly as it had come and Hongbin flopped back down into the buttery-smooth leather of his desk chair. “I didn’t ask any questions,” he muttered. Hakyeon’s hand settled on his shoulder and Hongbin wrapped his fingers around Hakyeon’s wrist in thanks.

“I would have told you, if you’d asked,” Jaehwan said. “I would have told you anything if you asked.”

Hongbin turned to look at his brother, suddenly exhausted. “Who are you, really?” he asked, feeling an ill-placed laugh bubbling up in his throat. “My foolish brother who seduces my enforcer and accidentally sets fire to my lover’s favorite antique chaise lounge? Or a hardened soldier who bent to torture and was unfairly punished for it?”

“A little of both, maybe,” Jaehwan said quietly, glancing at Hongbin through his fringe. “A little bit foolish, a little bit broken, a lot regretful.”

Hongbin finally let the laugh out, rocking his head back against the chair and letting the sound – broken and dark and mirthful and uplifting all at once – escape his throat from somewhere deep in his belly. “If we send you to spy on Oh Sehun, will you be able to do it?” he asked the ceiling.

In the corner of his eye, he saw Jaehwan draw himself up tall, his whole back held ramrod straight. “Yes,” he said. “I can do it.”

“And if you’re caught?” Hongbin questioned, sitting up to eye his brother critically.

Jaehwan’s eyes were red-rimmed and his face was still damp and salty and there was a smear on the cuff of his shirt. But there was determination in every line of his body. “There’s something that I learned, while I was a prisoner in the North,” he said, his voice deceptively casual. “When you’re being tortured, it doesn’t stop just because you gave them what they want. If they’re going to hurt and eventually kill you either way,” he shrugged and gave Hongbin a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, “then you may as well go out knowing that you kept loyal ‘til the last.”

“Prove it,” Taekwoon growled, slamming a knife down on the surface of the desk. He shoved his right sleeve up to his elbow, revealing the V-shaped scar on his forearm. It was a scar that every man in that room shared.

Jaehwan picked the knife up without hesitation and spent a moment admiring the blade. “You have a secret fondness for pretty things, don’t you?” he asked Taekwoon, crooking a wry smile up at him.

Taekwoon’s face remained stony, even in the face of Jaehwan’s soft mirth at the sight of his rainbow knife.

Another moment watching Taekwoon, and then Jaehwan’s eyes turned to Hongbin as though he were asking permission.

Hongbin gave him a firm nod.

And so Jaehwan shoved his sleeve up to his elbow, put the knife to his skin, and carved two short intersecting lines into his forearm, just deep enough that they would scar permanently. There was grim satisfaction on his face as he did it, and he held the knife over the floor afterwards and watched it drip his blood onto the hardwood.

Hongbin got up, rounded the desk and took Jaehwan’s face in his hands. Bending down, he whispered, “Welcome to the family, Hyung,” and then pressed a gentle kiss to Jaehwan’s forehead.

Jaehwan beamed, and that was more painful than any tears could possibly have been.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look the smut is back. Keo made me do it.
> 
> Realized I should probably tag their unhealthy relationship. I'm shit at tags so if you guys spot anything else that should be tagged and isn't feel free to let me know.
> 
> P.S. I love you all and I swear there's some plot in here somewhere. Please don't kill me for torturing them like this.

 

“You’re an idiot,” Taekwoon rudely informed Jaehwan, appearing in the doorway of Jaehwan’s personal bathroom as if by magic.

Jaehwan scoffed at him and otherwise didn’t respond, too preoccupied with attempting to bandage the cuts on his forearm.

Taekwoon just stood there watching for a few moments before he seemed to get fed up and came over to kneel in front of him and take over. “Why did you use your non-dominant hand, dumbass?”

Jaehwan used his uninjured arm to prop himself more securely on the bathtub ledge where he was perched and gave Taekwoon a gruesome smile. “Wanted it to match yours,” he mumbled.

He got an unimpressed glare for his efforts. Taekwoon taped down the edge of the gauze and Jaehwan expected him to let go afterwards, to ghost out of the room like he’d never been there the way he always did.

Instead he stayed, kneeling on the bathroom tile between Jaehwan’s spread knees, long fingers gripping Jaehwan’s elbow tightly. “This,” he said, running his thumb over the edge of the bandage so Jaehwan would know what he meant, “isn’t a joke.”

“You think I would scar myself permanently for a joke?” Jaehwan asked, his tone far more amused than he’d expected it to sound. He shook his head at Taekwoon and bumped his hip with one knee. “I know it’s not a joke.”

“It’s not temporary, either,” Taekwoon told him, as though he didn’t already know. “You can’t just decide you’re bored in six months and give it up.”

Jaehwan ignored the twinge of pulling wounds as he lifted his arm to tangle his fingers through Taekwoon’s soft hair. He was mildly surprised that Taekwoon let him. “Give me a little more credit, here. It’s been three years and I haven’t gotten bored of you.”

The look that Taekwoon gave him at those words was far more vulnerable than Jaehwan had expected, and certainly far more than he deserved. “I was under the impression that I wasn’t your only distraction.”

Jaehwan’s heart stopped beating for a moment and then started up again double-time. “No,” he said, tone too breathy, sounding vulnerable himself. “It’s just been you and my own hand for a long time.” Basically since he’d gotten Taekwoon to sleep with him the first time, but Taekwoon didn’t need to know that. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

Taekwoon’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, and Jaehwan expected him to say something else, but he didn’t. Instead they sat there in silence for a minute, or two, or ten – Jaehwan really wasn’t sure. The silence was somehow comfortable, Taekwoon’s gaze on Jaehwan’s neck where the last of his marks were finally fading, Jaehwan occasionally massaging his fingers along Taekwoon’s scalp.

“You’re still an idiot,” Taekwoon said at long last, clearing his throat. He didn’t look up at Jaehwan’s face, and that was perhaps the most telling of all. “And this doesn’t change anything.”

“I don’t expect it to,” Jaehwan countered. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m pretty pleased with what we’ve been doing so far. If I wanted someone who’d handle me like a china doll I’d go sleep with Wonshik.”

Taekwoon made a low, angry sound, almost entirely involuntary judging by the look on his face directly afterwards. “Don’t go to Wonshik,” he said. “Don’t go to anyone else.”

“Who’s the dummy now, robot-man?” Jaehwan said, trying for their usual abrasiveness, or at least teasing, but feeling as though he fell far short. “Why would I go somewhere else when I get what I need right here?”

“Don’t call me that,” Taekwoon said, and surged up to kiss Jaehwan before he even had a chance to respond.

The kiss was filthy, wet and deep with Taekwoon’s tongue in Jaehwan’s mouth. He kissed Jaehwan like he wanted to eat him, pushing against him as though he could never get close enough unless they fused as one.

When their lips finally parted so that Taekwoon could kiss his way down Jaehwan’s jaw, Jaehwan was panting. He only barely had the presence of mind to say, “No visible marks.”

Taekwoon growled but when he bit down on Jaehwan’s pulse point it was significantly gentler than usual. His arm snaked around Jaehwan’s waist to catch him just as he started to tip backward. “Bed,” he suggested, his voice rough.

Jaehwan loved that he’d made Taekwoon sound like that. He pushed up against him, and somehow together they managed to make it to upright, lips locking again as they staggered towards the bedroom.

He felt the backs of his knees hit the edge of the mattress half a breath before they were falling backwards. Taekwoon took the fall with some grace, catching himself on his forearms so that he could continue kissing Jaehwan, but between the contact with the bed and part of Taekwoon’s weight landing on his chest Jaehwan felt what little air was left in him burst out in a rush and turned his head away before something embarrassing could happen.

Taekwoon let out an annoyed huff but took the opportunity to lick down Jaehwan’s throat. As he laved over Jaehwan’s clavicle, Jaehwan wriggled and gasped.

“This isn’t comfortable,” he managed to point out breathlessly. His knees were spread, bent over the edge of the mattress and hanging a few inches above the carpet. Taekwoon had one knee propped between them, and the other foot on the floor, somehow holding him up even at the strange angle he was attempting to maintain.

Taekwoon made another exasperated noise and then straightened up. “Clothes off,” he demanded.

Jaehwan was quick to obey, tugging his fly open and trying to wiggle his pants off without actually getting up. It took longer than it should have and by the time he had his pants and underwear dangling around his ankles, Taekwoon was already completely undressed.

He crawled up the bed while Taekwoon rounded it, eyeing the sturdy bedposts with a glint in his eye that was all too familiar. Another time, Jaehwan thought, another day when he felt like he could wait a little without imploding, he would let Taekwoon tie him to those bedposts and edge him until he cried.

There were convenient shelves built into the headboard, and his lube was there, ready and waiting to be snatched up and used at a moment’s notice. To his chagrin, Taekwoon beat him to it, took the little bottle and studied it with affected fascination.

Jaehwan whined and made grabby hands at it and watched Taekwoon’s eyes go dark. He knew he made a pretty picture, knelt there naked from the waist down, shirt revealing more than it covered. “Please fuck me,” he begged. He was confident in this, at least – Taekwoon wanted him, always wanted him, and all Jaehwan had to do to get what he desired was press the correct buttons.

Taekwoon hummed, clearly trying to sound thoughtful, but his voice was too strained with arousal to pull it off properly.

Jaehwan ran a hand through his hair and then trailed his fingers down his neck until he reached the top button of his shirt. He took his time sliding it out of its hole, revealing just a tiny bit more skin.

Above him, stormclouds started gathering in Taekwoon’s eyes.

Making a soft, breathy noise, Jaehwan put his other hand on his own knee and slid it up to tease at the hem of his shirt. Another button lost the fight, and he made sure that the two halves of his shirt parted sufficiently that the triangle of skin they uncovered was impossible to ignore.

Taekwoon was hard, his dick swollen and flushed red. It wasn’t often that Jaehwan got to sit back and admire it, and he reveled in the knowledge that he’d done that, that it was all for him.

Even as he was, he could still make a man  _ want _ just by the sight of him.

“Taekwoon,” Jaehwan said, his tone whispery-light. He didn’t say  _ hyung _ . The two of them had never used that level of formality, not since the day Jaehwan had seen Taekwoon and decided,  _ I will make him desire me so strongly that he cannot look anywhere else. _ “Ruin me.”

Taekwoon made a gruff noise, somewhere deep in his throat, a low tone that Jaehwan hadn’t known he was capable of producing, and ordered, “Hands and knees.”

Jaehwan’s breath caught and held. After a moment where he determined that Taekwoon was not planning on rescinding his words, he moved to get into position with his shirt still hanging loosely off his shoulders.

With an impatient noise, Taekwoon stopped him, reached forward and ripped the two halves of Jaehwan’s shirt apart. A button went flying and Jaehwan pouted at him.

“I liked this shirt,” he informed Taekwoon, childishly.

“I’ll buy you another,” Taekwoon said, and then tugged the garment down Jaehwan’s arms. Just like that it was gone, Jaehwan fully naked in a brightly-lit room and about to get on his hands and knees for Taekwoon.

Perhaps his hesitation was obvious on his face, or perhaps Taekwoon had simply become too adept at reading him, because there was a long pause in which they both came to terms with what had changed between them.

And afterwards, Taekwoon seemed to decide that nothing really had changed, not fundamentally, and he threw the shirt aside and straddled Jaehwan’s lap, kissing him hard. As he did so, he took Jaehwan’s hands in his and maneuvered them to his own body, pressing one to his side and the other just below his shoulder.

Jaehwan was so caught up in the kiss that it took him a moment to realize what Taekwoon was doing, but then his fingers ran over a patch of skin just above Taekwoon’s armpit that was smoother than the rest and it came to him all at once.

_ Look at me, _ Taekwoon was saying without so many words.  _ I have scars too. It doesn’t matter. _

Jaehwan took a moment to absorb that, to press the pad of his thumb to that little mark – a bullet wound long healed – and to finger slowly over a ragged scar along the left side of Taekwoon’s ribcage. They were marks that he knew, after three years of whatever this was, marks that he’d seen a hundred times on Taekwoon’s skin and never once had he desired Taekwoon less because of them.

He hadn’t realized that he was worried about that, until that moment. It had always been about hiding his secret, before. But now that that was stripped away, he had to face everything else he felt about the scars on his back and the burden that he carried.

Taekwoon broke the kiss after another moment, scraped his teeth lightly over the edge of Jaehwan’s jaw, and ordered again, “Hands and knees.”

This time Jaehwan did it at once, shifting out from under Taekwoon and turning to get his knees beneath him, to prop himself up on shaking hands.

Another scrape of teeth, this time at the swell of his shoulder, and then Taekwoon retrieved the lube from where it had been dropped and started to spread Jaehwan open. He draped himself over Jaehwan’s back and pressed kisses to the knobs of his spine just below his neck.

It was suffocating, having Taekwoon so close behind him. Every muscle in his body was trembling with tension and Jaehwan was seriously considering shoving him off and rolling away.

“Relax,” Taekwoon hissed. But he let up a bit, standing up on his knees so that his weight wasn’t on Jaehwan. It helped, some.

Jaehwan slumped down onto his elbows and put his face in his hands. It made his ass stick up farther but he didn’t care. Couldn’t care, because his breath was rattling in his lungs and a little part of his brain was screaming  _ wrong. Pain. He’ll hurt you. _

He fiercely told that part to shut up, because that was the  _ point _ , and consciously slowed his breathing.

He jumped when Taekwoon’s fingers met the skin of his back, but forced himself to hold still.

All Taekwoon did was run one finger over the deep scar to the left of Jaehwan’s spine, just one gentle stroke and then the contact was over.

Jaehwan heaved a sigh that he told himself wasn’t relief and turned to lay his cheek on the backs of his hands.

He wasn’t expecting Taekwoon to do it again, but when his hand returned, this time stroking over a wide swath of tiny criss-crossing marks on the right side, he didn’t jump like before. Just like the first time his hand retreated, and Taekwoon eased another finger inside Jaehwan’s ass.

Teeth grazed Jaehwan’s asscheek and then the outside of his hip. He panted and whined and pushed his ass back against Taekwoon’s probing fingers and tried to focus on all the things that felt good. He loved sex with Taekwoon. He loved it when Taekwoon got rough. He was being stupid.

The third time Taekwoon touched his back Jaehwan was ready for it, was prepared for the way Taekwoon’s fingers traced thoughtfully over each and every scar. The intervals between touches got smaller and smaller until Taekwoon’s hand was constantly on him, until he’d leaned over and started licking the marks as well, lips brushing over Jaehwan’s skin like wet, teasing pillows.

Jaehwan keened and pressed into the contact. A third finger slipped into him, as easy as breathing, and he got back up on his hands so he could fumble for a condom from the box on the headboard.

“Don’t,” Taekwoon breathed, sounding as rattled as Jaehwan felt. “I want.”

He didn’t finish, but Jaehwan knew where he was going with that. “Listen, you–” he began.

But Taekwoon interrupted, “I haven’t either. With anyone. For more than a year.”

Jaehwan’s heart stuttered. It could mean anything. It wasn’t like there was a lot of room for a normal dating life in Taekwoon’s line of work. But a little part of Jaehwan hoped that it was something more, that maybe he hadn’t wanted anyone else because he already had Jaehwan.

God, but he had Jaehwan.

“You’ve been tested?” he asked, knew he  _ should _ ask.

“Every six months,” Taekwoon said, and then he snorted a little and asked, “What, you want to see the paperwork?”

“No,” Jaehwan breathed, maybe foolishly. He was so hard, and he wanted  _ so _ badly. “No, I believe you.”

So they forewent the condom, and Taekwoon slicked himself and pushed inside Jaehwan and...Jaehwan would not cheapen it or make it some sort of cliche, or...but fuck it, he couldn’t help but think in that moment that it felt like coming home.

It was probably because in the middle of sex a lot of things sound better than they really are. For the first time in years he had someone who saw him –  _ really _ saw him, scars and horrifying past and all – and that person still wanted him.  _ Taekwoon _ still wanted him. It was a fucking miracle or some shit.

Taekwoon made a high breathy sound, so close to a whine that Jaehwan couldn’t help but wonder what he would sound like if he just  _ let himself go _ for once. He started to move immediately after, hands gripping tightly around Jaehwan’s hips and pulling back every time his hips thrust forward.

Jaehwan moaned, reaching back to dig his fingers into Taekwoon’s thigh in encouragement. This wasn’t what he was used to but it was  _ good _ , so good and hot and slick, Taekwoon pulsing with arousal inside him as his pace already started to get erratic.

Taekwoon leaned over him again and Jaehwan didn’t feel trapped, he just felt warm and surrounded. An arm like a steel band came around his chest and he let out a high-pitched sound of pleasure as Taekwoon’s thrusts sped up.

After another moment of building arousal, of his dick dripping onto the sheets and Taekwoon’s glancing across his prostate at every opportunity, Jaehwan wrapped a hand around himself and let Taekwoon’s pace dictate his own.

Taekwoon sucked at the juncture of Jaehwan’s neck and shoulder for a moment, and then worried at it with his teeth before letting go. Not enough to leave a proper hickey – this one was unlikely to last the night – but enough to tell Jaehwan how desperately Taekwoon wanted to mark him. As though it was a compulsion he was having trouble controlling.

The pace slowed, Taekwoon’s thrusts getting deeper and harder as he approached his peak.

Desperate for release but also dreading the end of this, Jaehwan quickened the motions of his hand over his cock. But Taekwoon’s hand closed over it, pinched the head and then slowed their strokes to match the pace of his thrusts again, drawing it out almost painfully.

Jaehwan cried out. He may have said something, may have begged Taekwoon for mercy, but the next thing he knew his back was arching and the bed beneath him was being splattered with cum.

Taekwoon jerked and stilled behind him, a low moan escaping his lips. Jaehwan felt warmth inside him and thought  _ oh, that’s new, _ but otherwise couldn’t worry himself with the details. 

He let his elbows collapse beneath him, allowed his knees to follow them in sliding down until he was reclined on his belly in the middle of his own mess, and pillowed his head on his crossed arms.

Instead of rolling off immediately, as he usually did, Taekwoon followed him down and then just lay there for a minute, breathing heavily. When he did finally pull out with an unusually loud squelch, it was preceded by the softest of kisses to the back of Jaehwan’s neck.

He told himself it didn’t mean anything, especially when Taekwoon padded into the bathroom and then threw a wet washcloth out at Jaehwan like he usually did.

Jaehwan cleaned himself up, taking extra care between his legs, and by the time he’d finished and looked up, Taekwoon was there again.

He was still naked, but freshly scrubbed in all the important places, and he was holding Jaehwan’s first aid kit.

Jaehwan blinked owlishly at him.

“You’re bleeding,” Taekwoon said, in a familiar icy tone. And just like that they’d gone back to before this happened, before Jaehwan felt as though he’d bared his entire self to Taekwoon.

_ Well, _ he thought, sitting up and watching Taekwoon settle cross-legged on the bed in front of him,  _ maybe we haven’t gone back. Not completely. _

He was silent while Taekwoon took his arm and removed the bandages that had already soaked through. He applied disinfectant and something that seemed to Jaehwan like glue but that declared itself to be ‘liquid stitches’, and only once he was sure that it wasn’t bleeding anymore did Taekwoon finally cover the wound with gauze once more.

Taekwoon didn’t apologize, didn’t say  _ sorry, I should have picked a better position. _ It wasn’t his way, and Jaehwan didn’t expect it of him anyway.

Jaehwan could have picked a different position, if he had wanted to. He’d done it before, back when he’d made it clear that they would only ever be fucking face-to-face, no matter how awkward that was for hate sex.

But Jaehwan  _ trusted _ Taekwoon. He’d trusted him with his secret, with his safety, and with his body. There was nothing of Jaehwan that Taekwoon couldn’t have, if he asked for it.

That was terrifying. Jaehwan was terrified of feeling like this, of looking at Taekwoon and knowing that if he asked him anything, he would do it without a second’s hesitation. If Taekwoon asked him to step in front of a bullet for him, Jaehwan would fucking do it.

He wore the mark of loyalty that meant he was one of Hongbin’s men, now. But in his heart, Jaehwan knew that the second that Taekwoon’s values were different from Hongbin’s, he would not be standing on his brother’s side.

_ So be it, _ he thought with finality, and leaned in and stole a kiss before he could think better of it.

–

Jaehwan sat in the back seat of the car (a different one than the day before, but the exact same color and model) with his arms crossed and pouted.

_ Wonshik will take you to get the rest of your things, _ Hongbin had said at breakfast. But Jaehwan knew what was really going on. Hongbin had seen Jaehwan and Taekwoon stumble half-awake out of his bedroom that morning...together.

Jaehwan just knew that this was some sort of ridiculous plot to keep them apart. The whole lot of them were probably in on it, too.

Wonshik glanced at him in the rearview mirror and said, “You know Taekwoon-hyung already had an assignment today, right?”

Jaehwan huffed and turned to look out the window, entirely unimpressed. Was it so much to hope that he might get to spend the day with his...Taekwoon? That he might get to have  _ Taekwoon _ drive him around and follow him while he went shopping and protect him from bodily harm?

Apparently it was.

“He’s off breaking kneecaps,” Wonshik informed him anyway. If he had to guess, Jaehwan would say that no one outside Hongbin’s inner circle knew just how much the man liked to hear himself talk. “Issues with some club owners in the East Quadrant. You know how many people think that we’re pushovers just because our leader is young?”

“And I’m sure that you enjoy putting them in their place,” Jaehwan said, droll like he was reciting something out of a textbook.

“Oh, no.” The smirk that Wonshik threw at him over his shoulder was unsettling, to say the least. “That’s Taekwoon’s job. I’m just here to look pretty.”

In spite of himself, Jaehwan found his ears perking. “I have been wondering,” he said, trying to keep the same dry tone from before, “how exactly the command structure works here.”

Wonshik snorted a little. “Badly,” he said, and then corrected, “Well, on the surface. But there are reasons for the subterfuge.”

“Mm-hm,” Jaehwan hummed, as though he were half-listening.

They stopped at a red light, and Wonshik started drumming his fingers on the steering wheel as they waited. “We had reason to believe, at the end, that Old Man Park – that’s the previous boss – was poisoned. Assassinated.”

Jaehwan’s eyes widened, and he turned his gaze back to the window. “Poison? That seems a little far-fetched.”

“It did, even for us at the time,” Wonshik agreed. The car started to move again and he changed lanes, almost getting cut off by an old woman so small she could barely see over the dashboard. “But then a week after we set Hakyeon-hyung up as the puppet-leader, someone stabbed him. He nearly died.”

“Shit,” Jaehwan hissed, and he wasn’t sure that Wonshik even heard it over the road noise, but it didn’t matter much.

Wonshik shrugged, as though it wasn’t a big deal. Which, Jaehwan supposed, it wasn’t really in their line of work. He said, “So it’s a good thing that we didn’t just go ahead and install Hongbin like we’d been planning to since Old Man Park got sick. You know, since he’s got that bleeding disorder and everything.”

_ No, I didn’t know, _ Jaehwan didn’t say, his heart in his throat as he wondered just how many close calls there had been. How many times could he have lost his brother without ever knowing why?

He was silent the rest of the ride, and then when they reached the department store he was less than enthused about shopping.

After the third time he snapped venomously at a sales associate who was only trying to be helpful, Wonshik wrapped an arm around his shoulders and said, “Come on, Honey, cheer up. I thought you were excited about this trip?”

Jaehwan huffed and was ready to throw him off, especially when Wonshik started nuzzling his ear, but then Wonshik added in a whisper, “There are eyes on us.”

Fingering a shirt and then holding it up for inspection, Jaehwan muttered back, “Where?”

“Everyone in this area knows me, Hyung.” Wonshik took the shirt hanger from his grasp and returned it to the rack, holding out instead one with a wider collar that would show more skin. He let out a soft sigh after a moment and admitted, “But the guy over at the jewelry counter who’s trying to act like he’s  _ not _ watching us? He’s one of RM’s.”

Jaehwan casually glanced over while pretending to shrink from Wonshik’s face in his neck like he was ticklish. The man standing at the counter was tall but gangly, his pale brown hair flopping over his forehead in a manner that made him look rather boyish. “Is he a threat?” he demanded of Wonshik, disguising the words with a smile.

Wonshik shook his head, chuckling a little and pulling Jaehwan closer into his side. “V? Not likely,” he murmured. “RM likes to use him for reconnaissance. He’s pretty unobtrusive, good at making people underestimate him. As long as he’s alone I wouldn’t expect an altercation.”

“And if he’s not alone?” Jaehwan handed the shirt Wonshik had picked out to the new sales associate that came up to help them and it got added to Jaehwan’s already not-insignificant pile.

“We hope that’s not the case,” Wonshik said. He guided Jaehwan around the rack of clothes they’d been perusing and to another one that gave them a better view of the jewelry counter without being obvious about it. “I don’t think I can fight off J-Hope or Suga while protecting you.”

_ What is with these names, _ Jaehwan thought about asking, but instead he told Wonshik, “I’m not helpless, you know. I was one of Korea’s best soldiers.”

“Yeah, five years ago,” Wonshik snorted. “But how much have you kept up on that training?”

Jaehwan couldn’t help a slight wince. He knew that he was not as physically fit as he had been at one time. A sluggard’s lifestyle would do that to anyone. “I suppose,” he mused, holding up a shirt to his body and pulling away from Wonshik as though he were showing it off, “that I should get back into it, if I’m to be working with you.”

Wonshik made a noise of assent and took the shirt to add to the pile, but didn’t comment further.

They spent another few minutes meandering their way through the racks, increasing the poor sales associate’s burden with anything that caught Jaehwan’s eye while pretending to be a regular couple out on a shopping trip just for fun.

Idly, Jaehwan wondered what Taekwoon would think if he saw them like that. Would he be indifferent like he was to so many things about Jaehwan? Or would he be seething with jealous rage, ready to punch Wonshik to protect Jaehwan’s honor? He supposed that in the end it was better not to know. He couldn’t imagine that Hongbin would appreciate it terribly much if two of his inner circle started brawling over a man.

As Jaehwan redirected to the shoe section and their sales associate gratefully went to start wrapping up the apparel that he’d selected, Wonshik finally said, “He’s gone.”

Jaehwan had noticed their not-so-sneaky tail slipping away, but he was under no illusions that he was simply gone. “Hm,” he acquiesced anyway, pointing out a pair he wanted to try on as an associate from the shoe department scurried over to assist him.

The jewelry counter, he’d noted, was blocked from his view by a large display covered in mannequins. There was no way that this V would have been able to continue observing them from where he was standing, and too much longer there and he would have started to seem suspicious to people other than them.

Still, Jaehwan continued trying on shoes as though nothing was wrong, and by the time he’d finished there and moved on to the next section he’d spotted a tuft of pale brown hair bobbing just above a clothing rack.

Perhaps he knew he’d been spotted and was being more subtle.

“Men’s wear,” Jaehwan murmured, just loud enough that Wonshik, hovering at his shoulder like an attentive boyfriend, would be the only one who heard.

Wonshik glanced up, ostensibly scanning the signs  _ above _ the displays, and then replied, “So he hasn’t left, then.”

“I don’t think he’s likely to,” Jaehwan said, and started testing colognes.

“Great,” Wonshik replied, and though he looked and sounded as though he were responding to the tester strip that Jaehwan had just held up for him, Jaehwan was far too skilled at reading veiled sarcasm to interpret it any other way.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look, more porn. What a surprise. No seriously though there's also kind of some plot furthering in here. And...are those _emotions?_
> 
> As always if you see anything that should be tagged but isn't, or if you spot any glaring mistakes that should be remedied, please let me know. Idk if I've mentioned that this fic is not betaed because my usual beta is a busy woman and I like to revise last minute like a piece of shit.

 

Wonshik sighed heavily and leaned against the front door as he closed it behind them. In the end, V had followed them for the entirety of their shopping trip and Wonshik couldn’t be sure that he hadn’t tailed them into the parking garage and all the way home.

He’d put money on V bailing as soon as he was sure they were going back to the house, though. Even if he looked and acted like an airhead, he wasn’t an idiot. And getting that close inside their territory was definitely an idiot move.

Speaking of idiot moves, Wonshik eyed Jaehwan thoughtfully. He’d been convinced that the whole lot of them had gone batshit when they decided that trusting Hongbin’s  _ brother _ with a mission as important as Oh Sehun was a good idea.

But Jaehwan had handled the situation in the department store like a seasoned veteran. Which, Wonshik had to admit, he technically was. Jaehwan looked like a model and acted like a spoiled teenager most of the time, but he’d been Special Ops if his story was to be believed. Wonshik wondered what else he could do, and what more he might be capable of if he returned to regular training like he’d talked about.

“It’s not nice to stare, Wonshik-ah,” Jaehwan chided, sing-song.

Wonshik watched him for another moment, then asked casually, “You ever seen the basement?”

Jaehwan huffed a laugh, and retorted, “Is that some sort of come-on? Because I’m ta–I’m not interested.”

“There’s a dojo and a weight room in the basement,” Wonshik deadpanned. He’d caught the slip, though Jaehwan probably thought that he wouldn’t notice. He didn’t know what was going on between Jaehwan and Taekwoon, and to be honest it didn’t matter that much to him. As long as their shit didn’t affect anyone else.

“Oh.” Jaehwan looked around them, at the empty front hall and the quiet sitting room just beyond, and said, “What the hell. You up for a spar?”

“Sure you want to start with that after five years away?” Wonshik asked skeptically. But he led the way to the subtle door set into a side hallway that led down into the area that was finished with padded flooring on one side and hardwood on the other. Floor-to-ceiling mirrors lined two of the walls.

“Nice set-up,” Jaehwan commented flippantly, slipping out of his shoes and padding across the room to test the mats. “The mirrors are interesting.”

Wonshik shrugged and stayed at the bottom of the stairs, watching him. “When Hakyeon-hyung isn’t practicing Hapkido and mixed martials arts, he dances. Contemporary stuff mostly, I don’t really get it, but he has ballet training, too.” He nodded at the small barre that was tucked away in one corner of the dance floor. “Old Man Park used to say it made him useful. He sent Hakyeon-hyung on a lot of spy missions, back in the day.”

“Hm,” Jaehwan hummed, as though he weren’t really listening. Wonshik would call bullshit on that. He’d seen the way Jaehwan had acted in the car earlier. He hadn’t seemed like he was interested but he’d almost definitely been hanging on Wonshik’s every word. It was what Wonshik would have done, in his place.

Jaehwan stopped in the center of the mat and curled his toes inside his socks. He stared down at them like they were fascinating for a moment, and then he stretched up on the balls of his feet, fingers reaching for the sky, and then bent down and set his palms flat on the floor, easy as anything.

When he’d straightened again, he looked at Wonshik and asked, “So are we gonna do this, or…?”

Wonshik considered him. “You don’t want to change first?” he asked.

Jaehwan looked down at his clothing – pale pink button-front shirt and navy slacks and a leather belt the orangey-brown color of fall leaves – and then back at Wonshik. “If I am attacked in public, I’m more likely to be dressed like this than to be wearing sweats,” he pointed out.

“Fair enough,” Wonshik agreed with a sigh, and then toed off his own shoes and went to join Jaehwan in the middle of the mat. “Rules?”

“Anything goes,” Jaehwan said, examining his nails instead of sizing Wonshik up. “No killing, obviously, and no serious injuries.” He ran his thumb over the tops of his fingers and let his hand drop, flashing Wonshik a sadistic smile as he did so. “Oh, also, don’t break my pretty face.”

“What pretty face?” Wonshik grit out, just to try and get under Jaehwan’s skin. He fell into a ready stance, but Jaehwan was already moving, fist aiming for a nasty right hook.

Wonshik blocked and jabbed at Jaehwan’s side, sliding around him to drop an elbow in his kidney and then dance away.

Jaehwan whirled, hands up in a protective stance, but his footing was off.

_ His entire right side is open, _ Wonshik thought, and took advantage, aiming a kick at Jaehwan’s unprotected ribs.

It never connected. Jaehwan slipped suddenly out of reach and swiped Wonshik’s standing leg out from beneath him with a swift, well-placed foot. Wonshik saved it with a roll, bounding back up to standing and just barely managing to get his arms up in time to block the elbow that came flying at his face.

He ducked low beneath Jaehwan’s next attack, planted his shoulder in Jaehwan’s gut and flipped him cleanly over his shoulder.

Jaehwan hit the mat with a loud grunt as all the air was knocked out of him. Wonshik expected him to stay down after that, but instead he pressed up on one hand, swung his legs around, and was in a defensive crouch practically by the time that Wonshik managed to turn back to face him.

He went in for another attack, trying to take Jaehwan down while he was still winded, but as he lunged Jaehwan got ahold of him and tossed him casually over his hip, using his own momentum against him.

In the end, Wonshik was the one who ended up lying on the mat, winded and wondering what the hell had just happened.

“Maybe I’m not as out of practice as I thought,” Jaehwan said, voice the teasing lilt that Wonshik had gotten used to after living with the man for three years. 

When he tilted his head and gazed up at Jaehwan, he was standing there looking relaxed, examining his nails like he had before the match. But Wonshik could see now what he’d overlooked before: there was tense readiness in all the lines of Jaehwan’s body, an intense awareness of each one of his limbs that took years of training to hone.

“How long did you say you were Special Ops?” Wonshik wheezed, not even trying to get up yet.

Jaehwan sliced a look at him that Wonshik wasn’t skilled enough to interpret. He wasn’t sure even Hongbin or Taekwoon would manage it, with all their knowledge of Jaehwan. Clearly there was a lot about him that none of them had known. “Three years,” he said. He offered Wonshik a hand up and Wonshik took it. “And two years in the Marine Corps before that. I was supposed to be a career soldier. My parents were so proud.”

The self-deprecating look that came after Wonshik could read well enough. He knew where that story went wrong.

“Well,” he said, to break the tension he could feel filling the room like smog, “if you ever want to train, you’re more than welcome to join me.”

Jaehwan rocked back on his heels and said, “I might take you up on that. You mentioned a weight room?”

Wonshik nodded. “Yeah, it’s–” the front door slamming shut echoed down the stairwell. It was a good thing that he’d left the stairway door open, because the basement was pretty well soundproofed. “Hongbin’s home. I have to go report what happened today.” He went for his shoes, and on the way waved to the door on the far side of the dance floor. “Weight room’s over there if you want to check it out, though.”

“You don’t need me to join you?” Jaehwan asked, affecting the pouty teenager façade that he did so well.

“Nah,” Wonshik said, flapping a hand at him as he forced his heels into the backs of his sneakers. “You go have fun. There’ll probably just be a lot of yelling involved anyway.”

That was a lie and Jaehwan probably knew it. Hongbin very rarely yelled about anything. It was so very much easier to simply hand your balls to you on a platter, and usually more effective as well.

He found Hongbin in the kitchen, very carefully slicing an apple. Wonshik made his steps obvious as he entered and waited until the knife had been set aside before he said, “Hey, boss.”

Hongbin didn’t jump, but he’d already half-turned to see Wonshik standing there, so that wasn’t surprising. Still, didn’t hurt to avoid startling the hemophiliac with the knife.

“Yes?” Hongbin asked, raising one imperious eyebrow.

“Mission successfully completed,” Wonshik reported, snapping a sarcastic salute. “Thought you might want to know that V was tailing us the whole time, though.”

Hongbin took a vicious bite of an apple slice and huffed loudly as he began to chew. “So now RM knows about Jaehwan.”

Wonshik leaned against the doorjamb and agreed, “Knows he exists, anyway. I think we managed to play him off as my boyfriend. RM probably won’t look too deep into it.”

“Unless he wants to get to you through my brother,” Hongbin pointed out, always three steps ahead of Wonshik. He picked up his plate of apples and cheese and shuffled across the hall to the front sitting room, Wonshik trailing after him. 

When he’d settled himself into one of the overstuffed armchairs – the most practical furniture in the house, in Wonshik’s opinion – Hongbin said, “There’s not much we can do about it now. And confronting V probably would only have hurt us, so you were right to simply let him observe. It’s not like there was much to see, right?”

Wonshik scoffed at the thought, and replied, “Not unless our closest-guarded secrets are somehow hidden in Jaehwan’s wardrobe choices.”

Hongbin nodded, but he’d dropped into that pensive silence that meant he was contemplating something that Wonshik probably wouldn’t understand, so he bowed briefly and let himself out.

Maybe he would go rejoin Jaehwan and get some reps in after all.

–

The weight room was more...generic than Jaehwan had expected, somehow. There were none of the elegant, luxurious touches that Jaehwan had grown used to from the rest of the house. This room simply  _ was _ in a way that nothing in Hongbin’s possession had seemed capable of. It was stark and utilitarian and though the equipment was high-quality and there was a flat-screen TV on the wall, it still seemed low-class compared to everything else.

He went over to inspect one of the machines and physically reared back when he saw how much weight it was set for. It was heavier than he was.

It made him wonder, though, who had been lifting that much. Because if it was Taekwoon, he had some  _ much _ better ideas about things that Taekwoon could be lifting. Jaehwan, for instance. While doing fantastically dirty things to him.

Setting the thought aside for further examination later, he sat down on the bench of the machine he’d just been looking at and put his hands on the handles. They would barely move, no matter how hard he shoved, and it was frankly embarrassing. He’d have to work up to it if he wanted to lift that much. Not that he was sure it was truly worth the effort. He rather liked that Taekwoon was able to push him around a bit.

“You’re an idiot.”

Speaking of Taekwoon, there he was in the doorway wearing sweatpants and a loose tank top, with headphones hung over his neck and carrying a reusable water bottle like a normal man who went to the gym and not the fierce gangster that Jaehwan knew him to be.

“What,” Jaehwan said, his hands dropping to the bench so that he could lean back and regard Taekwoon, “is that your new greeting for me? As far as pet-names go, it could use a bit of work.”

Taekwoon’s face got very pinched, and he came over and adjusted the weight on the machine until it was less than half what it had been. “You’re going to reopen your wound,” he told Jaehwan instead of actually responding to what he’d said.

Jaehwan tilted his head so that his neck was on display and replied, “It’s hardly a wound. And I don’t recall you being so concerned about it last night.”

They’d gone three rounds and then Taekwoon had fallen asleep in his bed. Jaehwan wasn’t sure whether it had been on purpose or if he had simply worn Taekwoon out so thoroughly that he hadn’t been able to make it back to his own room. But it had certainly been worth the ache in his body and the awkwardness of Taekwoon avoiding his eyes when they woke up  _ cuddling,  _ of all things.

And of course afterwards he’d let Taekwoon fuck his mouth to ensure that there would be no awkwardness in the future. He could hardly allow one mistake (if that was what it was) to cause Taekwoon to stop fucking him entirely.

Taekwoon let out a soft scoff. “I have better things to do than fuck you in a public room, Jaehwan,” he said.

Jaehwan crossed his legs and leaned back further, ensuring that all of his long lines were on display in the most flattering way possible. “I’m sure I have no idea what you mean,” he said, gazing at Taekwoon through his eyelashes.

“Stop playing coy.” Taekwoon set his water bottle down on another bench and pulled his phone out of the pocket of his sweats. He started scrolling through it, looking for all the world like he didn’t even care that Jaehwan was in the room, but Jaehwan knew better.

“Come on, Taekwoon,” he goaded, leaving subtlety behind because it rarely worked with Taekwoon anyway. “You know you want me. I’m so pretty. And such a good fuck.”

Taekwoon made a strangled noise that was either rage or animalistic lust, and tossed both phone and headphones onto the bench next to his water bottle to stalk over to where Jaehwan sat. “I don’t have lube,” he said.

But he dropped down, one knee on the bench next to Jaehwan’s hip as he fisted his hand in Jaehwan’s hair and pulled his head back to kiss him bruisingly.

“That’s fine,” Jaehwan managed to breathe out between kisses, giving back as good as he got. “You can fuck my thighs then – or I’ll suck you off. I just  _ need–” _

Taekwoon cut him off by biting his lip hard, probably hard enough to break skin. “Then take your fucking pants off,” he hissed.

Jaehwan was doing just that, tugging desperately at the buckle of his belt, when a deep voice shouted, “Whoa, guys, come on!”

They pulled apart, both breathing hard, and Taekwoon’s face was flushed and his lips were kiss-swollen and it was a physical effort not to simply lean in and start the kiss all over again.

But Wonshik was standing in the doorway looking scandalized. “Seriously?” he asked, his expression morphing towards wry amusement. “You have two bedrooms you could be doing this in. Why the hell would you do it in the  _ gym?” _

Jaehwan shrugged and wiped a hand across his mouth. It came away smeared red with blood, and he turned to rebuke Taekwoon for it only to find him stalking off to the other end of the room. “Great,” he said, slicing his gaze back to Wonshik. “Now he won’t sleep with me for a week.”

“Good,” Wonshik said, entirely unsympathetic. “Then at least you won’t be doing it where other people could just walk in at any moment.”

Jaehwan sighed heavily at him, but gave it up for a lost cause for the time being. Instead he fixed his belt and asked, “How did your meeting with Hongbin go?”

Wonshik shrugged. “He doesn’t seem overly concerned, but you never know with him. Our fearless leader keeps a lot of things to himself.”

“Don’t I know it,” Jaehwan muttered. Hongbin had been hiding things since he was five years old. He’d always been a quiet kid, didn’t talk much and was alone a lot. Jaehwan hadn’t seen him connect with a lot of people, his own age or otherwise, and that had honestly been one of the biggest surprises when he’d first come begging to Hongbin for a place to stay: his inner circle was more than twice the size it used to be, and Hongbin seemed to genuinely  _ like _ all of these people.

“It’s unlikely that RM is going to try anything,” Wonshik continued, “even if he thinks you’re my boyfriend. He might be a ruthless gang leader but he has  _ some _ morals. He doesn’t like to get civilians involved if he can avoid it.”

Jaehwan gave him a coy smile. “I’m not exactly a civilian,” he pointed out. “And I’m definitely not helpless.”

“Yeah, I figured that out around the time that you dumped me squarely on my ass,” Wonshik agreed.

He couldn’t help preening, just a bit. Even he hadn’t been sure just how much of his training he remembered, after five years of pretending it had never happened in the first place. It was good to know that he’d still be able to defend himself, if it came to that.

And it might, between the situations with Suho’s gang and RM’s.

He glanced over at Taekwoon in the corner with his headphones in, resolutely ignoring them, and then licked his lips and gave Wonshik a long once-over, purring, “Well, I’d be happy to let you return the favor, if you’d like.”

Wonshik’s face contorted, confusion and then worry and then at Jaehwan’s eyebrow waggle it settled firmly into mischief, and he rumbled back, “Oh yeah?”

Jaehwan hummed and dragged his fingers down his neck, the gesture just casual enough that it didn’t look like it was on purpose. “You know, if you want a... _ private _ rematch, I might be able to arrange that.”

“Could you, now?” Wonshik stalked forward a few steps and leaned sideways against one of the weight machines, his eyes raking over Jaehwan’s form. He said smoothly, “I might like that.”

Jaehwan felt a little thrill go through him. Another man showing interest in him was always so...flattering. It made him feel good about himself. Made him want to bathe in their adoration. Even if he knew that Wonshik was just doing it to get a rise out of Taekwoon.

“I know you would,” Jaehwan said, and would have added more – one more casual touch to his own body, one more tilt of his head, but he’d underestimated how long it would take Taekwoon to stride over once he realized what was happening.

Taekwoon dragged him upright with hands like steel bands around his biceps and kissed him so hard Jaehwan thought he might suffocate. 

The kiss was domination, a claim like a brand against his skin, and when Taekwoon scraped his teeth over Jaehwan’s split lip as he pulled away he couldn’t even find the part of him that was supposed to be offended over that. Instead he whimpered and fell against Taekwoon’s body as he was pulled into his side.

With a glare sent Wonshik’s way, Taekwoon pulled Jaehwan out of the room, and he couldn’t even be sorry. After all, he’d gotten exactly what he wanted.

Taekwoon tugged him by the wrist all the way up to his bedroom on the second floor. As soon as the door was shut behind them he pressed Jaehwan back against it and kissed him again, his fingers already grappling for Jaehwan’s belt.

“You said you wouldn’t go to anyone else,” he hissed, licking over Jaehwan’s jaw and then biting down on his earlobe. Gone was the man who had fought so hard not to leave marks. Jaehwan held on to no illusions that he was going to exit that room completely unscathed. They would just have to hope that Hongbin didn’t throttle them both for it.

Jaehwan gasped when Taekwoon had wrestled his pants open and shoved his hand in, stroking over Jaehwan’s half-hard cock roughly. “It was – ah – harmless flirting, Taekwoon,” he replied, though his argument would probably have been better if it wasn’t stated on a moan. “I don’t see why you’re so upset.”

Taekwoon’s fingers dug into his hip and shoved him harder against the door. “Don’t play coy with me,” he growled. “This is exactly what you wanted, isn’t it?”

“Maybe,” Jaehwan allowed, sliding his hands up to lock behind Taekwoon’s neck as he was – predictably – lifted so that Taekwoon could rut their hips together. “God, fuck me like this,” he begged, wrapping his legs tight around Taekwoon’s waist.

Taekwoon made a sound like he was being tortured and suddenly hefted Jaehwan off the wall, stumbling across the room and nearly tripping on a discarded shirt when Jaehwan started sucking on his neck.

He set Jaehwan on the floor while he rooted through the bedside table drawer, and Jaehwan took the opportunity to finish off the hickey he’d started and then proceeded to shove Taekwoon’s sweats and underwear down to his ankles.

Taekwoon’s cock stood out from his body, thick and glorious and already leaking precum, and Jaehwan couldn’t  _ help  _ that he fell to his knees in order to lick it, okay? The surprise of it made Taekwoon make a noise that he would swear was a whimper, and that was a good enough reason to have done it.

He licked from the tip to the base and back up again, and then he took just the head into his mouth, suckling softly, appreciating the taste of Taekwoon’s precum. 

With a strangled moan, Taekwoon took him by the hair and yanked him back up to standing. “You make me crazy,” he muttered, low enough that Jaehwan wasn’t actually sure whether he’d been meant to hear.

It didn’t matter much, because Taekwoon shoved Jaehwan’s pants off, stepped out of his own, and got Jaehwan boxed in against the wall fast enough that he lost all thought of anything else. 

He wrapped a leg around Taekwoon’s waist and demanded, “Now.”

Taekwoon hissed at him like an offended cat and instead took his time shoving two slick fingers inside Jaehwan. He pumped them in and out, slow and steady, and Jaehwan knew exactly what he was doing and he equal parts loved and  _ hated _ it.

He was definitely sore from the night before. Taekwoon hadn’t exactly been gentle with him, and Jaehwan hadn’t expected him to. Still, there was an ache that wouldn’t otherwise be there, and every press of Taekwoon’s fingers was like static in his veins.

Taekwoon caught his eye and the look he gave Jaehwan wasn’t as icy and blank as he’d grown to expect. In fact, if he had to name the emotion on Taekwoon’s face, he would almost call it...concern.

Jaehwan kicked him in the ass with his heel and informed him, “I am not a delicate princess that will break with the slightest rough handling.”

It made Taekwoon scoff, made him renew his efforts, spreading his fingers as he really properly started to stretch Jaehwan.

In the meantime, Jaehwan decided to entertain himself by running a hand up his own belly, rolling the nub of one nipple between his fingers and moaning at the way it felt.

Taekwoon’s answering growl sent a shiver through him, and the static buzzing beneath Jaehwan’s skin only increased. He made a wordless noise and pulled Taekwoon forward by the nape of his neck to mouth mindlessly at his skin.

Taekwoon added a third finger and slumped over, resting his forehead on Jaehwan’s shoulder.

Jaehwan lost himself in it, for a time. The careful massaging of Taekwoon’s fingers inside him, the heat of Taekwoon’s body against him, and the feel of Taekwoon’s skin beneath his fingers and his lips was  _ so much. _ There had never been anyone he trusted enough to let himself go like that, to stop thinking, to stop guarding his secret with tightly gripping fingers.

It was almost a surprise when Taekwoon lifted him again, when he slipped his fingers out of Jaehwan and encouraged him wordlessly to wrap both legs around his waist and held him up against the wall like it was effortless while he pushed inside.

Taekwoon was so much inside him. He was so much and Jaehwan was oversensitive and overwhelmed and it felt so much like dying that he wasn’t entirely convinced that his heart hadn’t stopped or that he was still breathing.

It took him a moment to realize that Taekwoon hadn’t even started to move yet, but that was probably because he was gazing at Jaehwan with that not-concern look on his face yet again. He didn’t ask  _ are you okay,  _ but Jaehwan could tell that it was taking effort not to.

“I’m fine,” he breathed, and was shocked at how ragged his own voice sounded. He realized there was wetness on his cheeks, that he was  _ crying during sex, _ and couldn’t even bring himself to care. He gripped firmly to Taekwoon’s shoulders and goaded, “I thought you were going to fuck me?”

Taekwoon huffed and seemed for a moment like he was going to pull out, but Jaehwan squeezed his thighs tight around Taekwoon’s sides and he seemed to rethink it. Theirs wasn’t a relationship where they talked about feelings and worried for each other’s well-being. If Jaehwan wanted to stop he would say something, and Taekwoon knew it.

Instead Taekwoon shifted, adjusted his grip on Jaehwan’s hips, and started a series of slow, shallow thrusts right against his prostate. How he’d found it so quickly Jaehwan would never know, or maybe it was pure good luck.

He keened and threw his head back, knocking it against the wall behind him and too mindless with aching pleasure to even think about lifting it back up.

Taekwoon’s thrusts gradually lengthened, but he kept the same slow pace. He made up for the speed with the force of his hips, dropping Jaehwan against him with each thrust in, his hips hitting Jaehwan’s ass so hard he would have bruises later.

He left little butterfly kisses along Jaehwan’s shoulders, sucked marks into his neck, rested his nose in the dip of Jaehwan’s throat and simply held on for a time.

In return Jaehwan fingered through Taekwoon’s hair, ran his hands down and traced over every knob of Taekwoon’s spine that he could reach. There was something in the air around them, a thick miasma that Jaehwan couldn’t even breathe through, but even as it choked him he welcomed it.

Taekwoon seemed to feel the same, because he clutched Jaehwan closer to him and fucked him harder.

“Tell me I’m pretty,” Jaehwan begged, not sure why he needed to say it. He didn’t want to hear those words from Taekwoon, not really, didn’t expect them to come out of his taciturn lover’s mouth. “Tell me how much you want me.”

“You’re an idiot,” Taekwoon said, panting against Jaehwan’s clavicle. He reached for Jaehwan’s dick, gave it a few cursory strokes, and then returned his grip to Jaehwan’s hip for leverage. The muscles in his arms bulged with strain and Jaehwan could almost feel his insides melting.

He whimpered, wrapped a hand around his own dick since Taekwoon was rather preoccupied, and whispered again, “Tell me I’m pretty.”

Taekwoon snarled and kissed him, wordless rage and passion, sweat-slick skin sliding under his bruising grasp as he shunted Jaehwan a little higher up the wall. “Don’t go to anyone else,” he said.

Jaehwan breathed, “I won’t,” and bit another kiss from Taekwoon’s lips.

“Don’t flirt with Wonshik,” Taekwoon said, and there was something in his voice, something that Jaehwan couldn’t bear to analyze, couldn’t stand to be wrong about.

“I won’t,” Jaehwan swore, feeling Taekwoon’s fingers brand him more surely than a knife to his arm ever would. “Never. I don’t need anyone else. Not when I have you. Not when I–”  _ love you, _ he bit off just in time. Foolish, no matter how Taekwoon made him feel in the bedroom.

Taekwoon hissed out, “Good,” and suddenly quickened their pace, thrusting with abandon as Jaehwan cried out and did his best to hold on.

He was almost certain that he screamed Taekwoon’s name when he came, and he could only hope that that was the only thing he screamed.

Taekwoon, for his part, bit out a curse and half of Jaehwan’s name as he shuddered through his release. 

His arms trembled as he pulled out and set Jaehwan back on his feet, but Jaehwan’s knees were just as wobbly and he wound up sliding down to the floor, bringing Taekwoon with him because he was still holding onto Jaehwan’s hips with stiff fingers.

“Wow,” Jaehwan mumbled, and let his arms flop to lie uselessly at his sides.

Taekwoon tucked his face into Jaehwan’s neck, a strangely vulnerable action, and relaxed against his chest.

Their skin was tacky with cum and drying sweat, and Jaehwan could feel the salty trails of tears on his face, but he was content. He had no desire to move just yet.

“This is,” Taekwoon said, startling Jaehwan out of a half-doze, and then stopped.

“Yes?” Jaehwan asked, wondering if he should start running now. How much had Taekwoon guessed, from what he said?

Taekwoon huffed, a familiar sound of annoyance. His hand slid up and curled around Jaehwan’s side and he said, “Condoms annoy me.”

Jaehwan raised a tired eyebrow (and that was impressive, wasn’t it, that Taekwoon could wear him out so well that even his eyebrows were tired) and prodded, “Your point is?”

A soft little noise of frustration, high in Taekwoon’s throat. “Don’t go to anyone else,” he said again. “Don’t flirt with anyone else just to get me in bed. I want... _ this. _ ”

Jaehwan’s breath caught and he would have stared down at Taekwoon if his face weren’t still firmly planted in Jaehwan’s neck. He fought for control, for some semblance of normal as he teased, “Jung Taekwoon, are you asking to  _ court me?” _

Taekwoon growled and pinched him. “Don’t make me regret it.”

“I won’t,” Jaehwan said, simple because he was afraid that anything more would make Taekwoon take it back, would make him say that he was only kidding, that he hadn’t just asked what Jaehwan thought he’d just asked. He could feel his pulse fluttering like a thousand tiny fairy wings inside every one of his veins, and he thought that with all that flapping, he could very well  _ fly. _

“Shower with me,” Taekwoon said, and it sounded like a demand but...Jaehwan rather thought it was a request.

He curled an arm around Taekwoon’s waist, reveled in the fact that he was  _ allowed _ to do that without getting his hand bitten off, and murmured, “As soon as I can feel my legs.”

Taekwoon seemed content to allow that.

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is slightly shorter than usual, but (hopefully?) makes up for it by setting us up for some pretty big stuff in the future. Oh, also that NBin pairing makes a comeback.

 

Sitting across the breakfast table from Jaehwan and Taekwoon, Hongbin was positive that something had happened between them. For one thing, Jaehwan was entirely covered with bruises yet again and he was having distinct trouble remaining still in his seat. For another, there was a bruise on Taekwoon’s neck as well – a very distinctly mouth-shaped bruise – and Hongbin  _ knew _ that Taekwoon had never, ever come home with a visible hickey before.

He narrowed his eyes when Jaehwan stole a bite of Taekwoon’s toast while it was halfway to his mouth and Taekwoon just...didn’t react. No antagonism, no glare, no sharp punch to the arm, nothing.

Jaehwan looked smugly satisfied with himself as he sat back and chewed. He caught Hongbin’s eyes and winked at him, and Hongbin wondered how this could be the same person who just two days ago sat crying in front of his desk, declaring his loyalty with blood.

“Hyung,” he said, and watched as all eyes immediately locked on him. He nodded at Jaehwan, to indicate who he meant. “You’ll join me in my study after breakfast.”

Jaehwan agreed easily enough, showing no sign that he suspected the conversation would be unpleasant.

Hongbin had a familiar frustrated urge to poke holes in Jaehwan until he garnered the reaction he was expecting. It wasn’t something he’d ever felt for someone he cared about and it took him by surprise, throwing him enough that he dropped eye contact abruptly and turned to start a benign conversation with Hakyeon, whose eyebrow twitched in bemusement but who otherwise didn’t comment.

–

Jaehwan’s face gave away nothing as he settled into the chair in front of Hongbin’s desk in a lazy slump. The loose collar of his shirt revealed significantly more, drooping off of one shoulder and showing off a series of hickeys and bite marks across his collarbone and down his chest.

Hongbin shook off the blind rage that the sight caused. Or tried to, because he certainly didn’t mean for the first words that came out of his mouth to be, “Do you always let him treat you like that?”

Jaehwan made a little inquisitive noise and then followed Hongbin’s gaze to his own shoulder. He laughed when he realized, and said, “Little brother, if I didn’t like the way he was treating me, it wouldn’t have continued for this long.”

Hongbin winced at the implication. He  _ did not _ need to know that his brother enjoyed being manhandled. For that matter, he really didn’t need to know anything about Jaehwan’s sex life. “Were you ever going to tell me that you two are together?”

“For a given value of together,” Jaehwan muttered. And then before Hongbin could react to the statement he countered, “Were you ever going to tell me about your illness?”

Ice in his veins, and Hongbin forced himself to inhale slowly. “One of the others told you,” he murmured, not a question. There were only a select few who knew, after all.

“He seemed to think I was already aware,” Jaehwan retorted, crossing his arms over his chest. “The question is why I had to hear it from one of your lackeys instead of being told by  _ my brother  _ that he was sick.”

“I’m not  _ sick,” _ Hongbin tried to insist. “I have a very mild form of hemophilia. It barely impacts my day to day life.”

Jaehwan’s mouth set further and Hongbin knew from long experience that it was going to be nearly impossible to distract him until he’d gotten the answers that he wanted. “Your lover nearly died, and if you had been stabbed instead, you would have. You live this life knowing how dangerous it is for you.”

“I’m aware of my own limitations, Hyung. That’s why Hakyeon volunteered to be the public head of the organization, to protect me,” Hongbin said. He sighed and gave in to the impulse to rub his hands over his face. “Every time someone tries to sabotage or assassinate him, I have to live with the knowledge that it should have been me.”

“If it had been, you would be dead,” Jaehwan said again.

Hongbin snarled and slammed a hand down on the surface of the desk. The noise didn’t even make Jaehwan jump. “You think I don’t know that?” he hissed. “You think that I  _ like _ this? I didn’t even know about my condition until after initiation, and by then it was too late. I was just lucky that Old Man Park found other uses for me.”

Jaehwan blanched, finally, turning his eyes away. “How many times have I nearly lost my brother?” he whispered.

“Will knowing make you feel better?” Hongbin asked.

Jaehwan was quiet a moment and then he admitted, “No, probably not. But you’re still in danger, here. Even as Hakyeon’s lover, you’re still a target.”

“Let me worry about that,” Hongbin said. “I’ve been doing this for a long time.”

“Yeah,” Jaehwan muttered, but otherwise fell into a pouty silence.

Hongbin leaned back in his chair and shoved away all the negative thoughts that he didn’t have time to deal with. There was a reason he hadn’t told Jaehwan about his condition. It was a weakness and that was not only embarrassing, but dangerous. If the information made its way to the wrong people, Hongbin would have a lot more to worry about than just making sure that his organization ran smoothly and that RM’s people didn’t infringe on their territory overmuch.

“I was scared,” he told Jaehwan at last, getting to the root of the problem. “I was scared you wouldn’t respect me anymore if you knew.”

Jaehwan didn’t look at him, but he muttered, “That was stupid.”

_ Yeah it was, _ Hongbin thought, but he let the statement lie as it was.

After a while, Jaehwan uncrossed his arms to run a hand through his hair and admitted, “I don’t know what Taekwoon and I are.”

Hongbin folded his hands over his belly and waited, familiar enough with that soft tone of voice not to interrupt.

“I think he wants to be exclusive, but that’s about all I know.” He turned to look at Hongbin and there was fragility written across his face. This wasn’t a side of Jaehwan that anyone got to see very often. “So I haven’t told you because I didn’t know  _ what  _ to tell you. Since I figured you don’t really want to know about my sex life.”

“Thanks for that,” Hongbin muttered. And then he said, “Look, as long as you’re happy I don’t care what you two are doing. Just...this?” He waved a hand at the marks on Jaehwan’s skin. “Don’t do that when you have a mission that involves potentially seducing someone else.”

“Taekwoon won’t like that very much,” Jaehwan mused, and Hongbin thought he was probably referring to multiple parts of his statement.

Hongbin huffed and addressed the part that he was willing to think about. “You don’t have to sleep with Oh Sehun. But some harmless flirting might get him to let down his guard enough to spill something, and we  _ need that. _ You have no idea what he’s capable of.”

“Which is why you were going to send your civilian brother in to deal with him,” Jaehwan joked, but then he sobered and said, “I get it. And Taekwoon will too. Just part of the job, right?”

“Right,” Hongbin said, and hoped to god that everything would work out.

–

Hakyeon floated in sometime later. He set a full cup of coffee down in front of Hongbin and then rounded the desk, leaning over the back of Hongbin’s chair to wrap wiry-strong arms around his shoulders.

“Everything okay?” he asked, keeping his voice soft. He pressed his cheek to the top of Hongbin’s head.

Hongbin laid his hand over Hakyeon’s and closed his eyes. “Yeah,” he murmured, not entirely sure it was the truth. “Just. Jaehwan, you know.”

“Is he going to be okay trying to do this job?”

“I don’t know,” Hongbin replied honestly. He’d been trying to think about it logically, trying to push aside his personal feelings on the matter and assess the situation the way that Old Man Park had taught him, but he couldn’t seem to manage it. “I’ve never struggled with a decision like this before,” he murmured, and started to trace Hakyeon’s knuckles.

Hakyeon kissed his hair. “Except when it comes to me, right?” he murmured. “You do realize why that is.”

He didn’t have to make it a question. Hongbin only fought himself this hard when it came to people that he loved. Maybe the struggle was that he hadn’t realized just how attached he was to his brother.

“We weren’t close, growing up,” he found himself saying. “Jaehwan was...always moving. He spent a lot of time off frolicking with his friends, or whatever. And I was….”

“Alone?” Hakyeon finished for him when he couldn’t.

“Yeah,” Hongbin said.

When he’d first met Hakyeon, Hongbin had been a first year in high school, quiet and lonely but observant and wickedly smart. He hadn’t been good at connecting with other kids his age, but Hakyeon had been different. He was three years older, vibrant and cheerful and always able to talk to anyone. He’d seen Hongbin at the park, spotted him reading under a tree and come to say hello because that was just what Hakyeon  _ did _ back then – he picked up strays.

Hongbin hadn’t known, then, that Hakyeon was a gangster – a legacy, even, because his mother had been a member before him. He’d just known that Hakyeon was easy to talk to, that he never had to worry about saying the wrong thing around him.

Even more than ten years later, Hakyeon was still the person that Hongbin connected with the best. Sure, his communication skills had improved, and he didn’t feel the need to isolate himself as much as he once did. But he was still happiest with Hakyeon, and that’s how he knew that they were right.

“Do you ever wonder where we would have ended up, if I hadn’t spoken to you that day?” Hakyeon murmured, clearly thinking along the same lines as Hongbin.

“No,” Hongbin answered truthfully. “And I don’t want to, because you’re literally the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“Even though I’m the reason you became geondal?” Hakyeon asked. His hand wandered down Hongbin’s chest, sliding over smooth silk and then playing with one of his shirt buttons.

Hongbin snorted. “Baby, you may have connected me to Old Man Park, but you’re not the reason I joined.”

“That’s offensive,” Hakyeon whined, but his fingers slipped the button from its hole and moved on to the next one. “Here I thought you pledged your eternal loyalty to VIXX because you loved me.”

“We were barely together yet,” Hongbin pointed out, as another of his buttons lost the fight and Hakyeon’s hand slid inside his shirt.

“You were so cute then,” Hakyeon mused, stroking slowly over Hongbin’s chest. “All soft and innocent, and you blushed every time I so much as held your hand.”

“Did not,” Hongbin insisted, even though he knew it was a lie. He aimed to distract by saying, “And I wasn’t innocent; not by a long shot. Or did you forget how much I like to cut things just to watch them bleed?”

“Mm,” Hakyeon hummed, and pressed a wet kiss to Hongbin’s temple. “I watched you stab a man fourteen times and I knew it was meant to be.”

Hongbin still had possession of one of Hakyeon’s hands, and he slid his fingers into the spaces between Hakyeon’s and gripped tight. “Only you could fall in love watching someone commit a brutal murder.”

Hakyeon licked the shell of his ear and then blew over it just to watch Hongbin shiver. “What you did wasn’t murder, Hongbin-ah. It was art.”

Hongbin snorted and dislodged Hakyeon enough that he could turn the chair around. He pulled his lover into his lap and kissed him smartly. “You’re ridiculous,” he said.

“You love me,” Hakyeon said, cheeky. He leaned down for another kiss, more lingering this time, and both his hands wandered inside Hongbin’s shirt again.

“You came in here because you're horny, didn't you,” Hongbin said, deadpan. He got two handfuls of Hakyeon’s ass just because he could.

Hakyeon purred. “I might have,” he admitted, voice going sultry as he leaned in closer to ghost his teeth over Hongbin’s neck.

“Incorrigible,” Hongbin sighed, doing his best to sound exasperated.

Hakyeon licked his pulse point and traced his nose over Hongbin's jaw. “You love me,” he said again.

“I love you,” Hongbin agreed. “But I do have work to get done today.”

“Just a quickie?” Hakyeon asked, mouthing at Hongbin's ear as though that would convince him. It might not have if he was  _ really  _ that busy, but there wasn't anything that couldn't wait another hour.

He slid one hand up Hakyeon’s back and bartered, “How about I jerk you off?”

Hakyeon made a little pleased noise and kissed him again. “That'll do for now,” he said. “But I fully expect you to lay me out on our new silk sheets later and fuck me until I can't walk.”

“I don't know why you insist on immediately ruining every set of sheets you buy,” Hongbin muttered, but it was fond. He dug his fingertips deep into Hakyeon's asscheek for a moment and then let go, reaching for his fly instead.

“The new ones are the best for a really good fuck,” Hakyeon insisted. He hissed when his pants were unzipped and shoved down, releasing his dick. He was already hard and bright red and leaking.

Hongbin brushed his fingers lightly over the length of it, teasing just to hear Hakyeon gasp. “Barely any foreplay and you're already this hard for me?”

Hakyeon huffed a laugh. “I may have been fingering myself in the shower,” he said breathlessly, hips kicking forward looking for friction.

“While thinking about me, I hope,” Hongbin rumbled, in the deep register that always made Hakyeon shiver. He wrapped his hand around Hakyeon's dick and ran his thumb over the head.

“Definitely,” Hakyeon agreed on a moan. “I was thinking about the time I wore those lace panties and you fucked me around them.”

“That was one of my favorites,” Hongbin said, and started to stroke Hakyeon's dick slowly, teasing the head with his thumb on every upstroke. “Maybe we should have a repeat performance?”

Hakyeon whimpered and thrust impatiently into Hongbin's hand, and Hongbin shifted the arm he had on his back to grip his shoulder and hold him down.

“So impatient,” he chided gently, clucking his tongue at Hakyeon.

Another moan. Hakyeon pressed his cheek to Hongbin's and panted harshly into his ear.

Hongbin chuckled darkly but had pity, setting the pace fast and hard, aiming for a quick release. He kissed behind Hakyeon's ear and felt him make an aborted little thrusting motion.

“Love you,” Hakyeon mumbled, clutching Hongbin's shoulders. “Love you love you love you.”

“Only when I'm getting you off,” Hongbin teased, and was satisfied to see Hakyeon pull back, still in the throws of pleasure, to glare at him.

“Always,” he insisted. “Even if we lost everything, as long as I have you I'll be complete.”

Hongbin kissed him, mumbled, “Sap,” and then rubbed the spot at the base of Hakyeon’s dick that he knew was sensitive.

Hakyeon gasped, threw his head back, and came with a loud moan.

Hongbin managed to limit the damage to only his hand instead of their clothes, and grunted when Hakyeon half-collapsed onto his chest with a contented sigh.

“I love you,” he mumbled again, consonants sloppy with satiation.

Hongbin patted his back with his clean hand and kissed his hair. “Love you too,” he replied. “Now for real, can I get some work done?”

Hakyeon slanted a sly look at him. “You don't want me to return the favor?”

“Return it later,” he said, swatting Hakyeon's ass. “I have things to do.”

Hakyeon pouted at him, but slid off his lap and stood. He tucked himself back into his pants and then leaned down for one last kiss. “I should make some phone calls anyway,” he said. “Gotta keep the fear of god in your lackeys.”

“Thanks, baby,” Hongbin murmured, half for Hakyeon's thoughtful initiative and half because he'd just pulled a package of wet wipes out of the desk drawer and handed one to him. He cleaned off his hand and tossed the evidence in the trash, and then he pulled Hakyeon in by the hips. “Tonight, I will do all sorts of unspeakable things to you, I promise.”

“I'll hold you to that,” Hakyeon purred. He rubbed his hands over the V of skin exposed by Hongbin's half-open shirt, dropped a kiss to his forehead, and was gone.

–

The next time Jaehwan walked into the basement, he was actually prepared. He was wearing sweats and had a water bottle with him, and the plan was to run some drills and then spend a little time familiarizing himself with the equipment in the weight room.

A slight wrench was thrown in his plan when he found Taekwoon down there already, wearing nothing but a pair of athletic shorts and practicing forms while he watched himself critically in the wall of mirrors.

Jaehwan’s gaze caught and held on Taekwoon’s graceful movement, the dance of his feet, the sharp force behind each strike despite the lack of a target. Sweat dripped down Taekwoon’s back. He flicked his hair out of his face with an impatient head-toss and went back to his drills with twice the determination.

“Taekwondo?” Jaehwan said finally, when it seemed that Taekwoon’s practice was winding down.

Taekwoon dropped out of the tense posture he’d been holding and leaned over to pick up a towel from the floor by the edge of the mat. He mopped at his face and replied, “Yeah. Since I was eight.”

It was more information about himself than he’d ever offered before. Jaehwan felt a thrill like electricity through his chest and debated for a long moment whether to push or to let it stand and hope that Taekwoon would offer him more later. In the end he said, “That the only martial art you practice, or just your favorite?”

“Some hapkido, too,” Taekwoon said, shrugging. “Boxing, MMA.”

Jaehwan nodded and tried not to crow triumphantly. They’d been having a real conversation for almost a whole minute. Sixty entire seconds of Jaehwan saying things and Taekwoon responding with details about himself that Jaehwan hadn’t known before. “Cool. I was just gonna run some drills, myself.”

Taekwoon stepped off the mat, retrieved his shirt and a water bottle from the floor where his towel had been. “Taekwondo?” he asked, parroting Jaehwan’s earlier question.

“Karate,” Jaehwan corrected. “And wushu, krav maga, taekkyeon, a handful of other things.”

One of Taekwoon’s eyebrows rose towards his hairline and he looked Jaehwan up and down once as if to say,  _ you? _

Jaehwan flapped a hand at him. “I know, I know,” he muttered. “I don’t look it. And it’s been a long time, but I was  _ actually _ a really good soldier, you know.”

“Sure,” Taekwoon agreed, far too easily and mildly for Jaehwan to believe it was genuine. He started off towards the weight room.

“What, you want me to prove it to you by kicking your ass?” Jaehwan screeched at his back. He winced right after. So much for that whole civilized conversation thing.

Taekwoon turned around and gave him a very unimpressed look. “You could try,” he said, deadpan.

Jaehwan puffed up his chest and informed Taekwoon, “I kicked Wonshik’s ass yesterday.”

“I trained Wonshik,” Taekwoon said, not a single facial muscle twitching. “He never really got the hang of single combat.”

Jaehwan made a wordless sound of frustration and flapped his hand at Taekwoon again. “Just. Go finish your workout. Before I eat you.”

One corner of Taekwoon’s lips quirked just the tiniest bit. Something unfamiliar sparked in his eyes, and he asked, “Do you promise?”

Jaehwan’s mouth went dry and he nearly jumped Taekwoon right there. He managed, just barely, to refrain, and instead smirked at Taekwoon. In his most sultry voice he replied, “Oh, most definitely.”

He  _ saw _ the tiny shiver that went through Taekwoon, though he tried his damndest to hide it. And then in the next moment he was disappearing through the door to the weight room and Jaehwan was alone.

That...had been strange.

–

Taekwoon did his entire weight routine with more care than usual, and then decided to run ten miles on the treadmill instead of his usual six. Jaehwan finally came into the room around mile eight, glistening with sweat and looking so fucking gorgeous, even in sweatpants with the name of an aquarium down one leg, that Taekwoon nearly tripped.

Jaehwan adjusted the weight on one of the machines and then sat down and started doing reps, veins popping as the muscles of his arms strained with the effort. He was lifting less than half of what Taekwoon normally did, but he looked so fucking confident doing it. And he was completely ignoring Taekwoon.

He wasn’t sure he could remember a time when Jaehwan had ever ignored him before. It wasn’t something that Jaehwan did. He was always right up in Taekwoon’s face, goading him until he finally gave in and just fucked Jaehwan to shut him up.

Taekwoon was aware that their relationship – such as it was – was fucked up. He was aware that this wasn’t the way that normal, rational adults behaved.

He wasn’t very capable of rational thought when it came to Jaehwan.

He glanced down at the readout on the treadmill and realized he was almost at eleven miles, figured he may as well try for twelve, just to even things out, and looked back up to find that Jaehwan was watching him.

Jaehwan did three more reps, got off the machine, and started doing push-ups on the floor. He was at the perfect angle for Taekwoon to notice that the stupid aquarium sweatpants hugged his ass just right.

Taekwoon decided that while he was at it, he’d just push for fifteen miles, just to see if he could do it. Which had nothing to do with the fact that Jaehwan had returned to the weight machine for another set, and that he was smirking at Taekwoon as though he knew exactly what he was doing. It was Jaehwan; he probably did.

Taekwoon was going to die.

– 

Wonshik never shirked his duties. But when he had a (very rare) night off, he was never in the house. He spent enough time around those people, enough of his life serving Hongbin because he’d pledged his loyalty to Hongbin and his ideals. Wonshik  _ believed _ in what Hongbin was trying to do.

That didn’t make this particular situation much easier to swallow.

He closed the door behind him with a soft click and shucked his shoes, shuffling into the apartment’s small living area. The large, plush sofa was already occupied. The man there – long-limbed, all tight muscle covered in rich tanned skin – was dozing with his cheek resting on his folded arms, soft brown hair feathered over his forehead.

Wonshik leaned over him and kissed his pouty lips, and the man stirred, turning over to put his arms around Wonshik’s neck and pull him down.

He went easily, settling over the other body like he was meant to be there. “Hello, love,” he murmured.

His lover laughed, a gravelly rumble somewhere deep in his throat. “I missed you,” he whispered, and tugged Wonshik down for more kisses.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Wonshik replied, letting his lips trail from mouth to cheek to nose and across a proud brow. “Things have been hectic lately.”

“And you can’t tell me anything,” the man beneath him said knowingly, hitching one leg up over Wonshik’s hip.

Wonshik winced and said, “Yeah, sorry. Where’s–?”

“At practice,” the other man interrupted before Wonshik could finish the thought. “You missed his last show. He was very miffed with you.”

“I’ll make it up to him,” Wonshik promised. He clutched his lover’s shoulders and tried not to think about how difficult that would be, and how many times he’d made promises to them before and then not followed through. They understood, he knew they did, but sometimes….

His lover kissed his chin, slow and sleepy and thoughtful. “He’ll be home in an hour or so. I bet he’ll be less mad if we have dinner waiting for him.”

Wonshik let out a breath and gave his lover a swift kiss in thanks. “I think we can manage that. Don’t you?”

Another sleep-rough chuckle. “Maybe. If we save the sex for later. He’ll probably be more inclined toward mercy if we wait for him anyway.”

“Fine.” With one last kiss, Wonshik rose and pulled the other man up with him.

This would never, ever be wrong. They made him happy, the two of them. But if Hongbin found out, if he knew what Wonshik was doing right under his nose, he would kill Wonshik, nearly ten-year friendship notwithstanding.

It was a betrayal that could never be forgiven, no matter the reasons that Wonshik was doing it. And so no matter how loyal he was, no matter how much he believed in Hongbin and his purpose, he would never truly be Hongbin’s man. Not completely.

Because Wonshik could not, under any circumstances, give this up. He would not sacrifice love for even the deepest loyalty. And that was probably his greatest fault, but he would not apologize for it.

He got an armful of warm, contented man and a gentle kiss beneath his ear.

“Stop thinking so much. Everything is fine.”

It wasn’t, but Wonshik was  _ happy, _ and he supposed that that would have to be enough. Even if they were constantly walking on eggshells and watching their backs like men paranoid.

He wasn’t the only one who would be in danger if they were found out.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: that dubcon tag comes back in a pretty big way, this chapter. I'll put more details in the end notes for those who want it, but just know that though the sex scene in question is less graphic than usual I was still flinching while I wrote it.
> 
> Also beware that I cried through like most of this chapter so. You know, stay safe, lovelies.

 

Jaehwan was wearing another one of the gods-damned suits, properly tailored to him this time and so fucking sexy that Taekwoon simply froze in place for a moment with Jaehwan’s bedroom door halfway open.

In the reflection of the full-length mirror he was standing in front of, Jaehwan saw Taekwoon standing there and asked, “How do I look?”

Taekwoon’s mouth was so dry he couldn’t respond at first, so he tilted his head, did his best to affect an unimpressed expression, and finally said, “You’ll do.”

Jaehwan finished adjusting a cufflink and turned around, the long lines of his body looking even longer in the close-fitting fabric. Pale gray and slightly shiny, Taekwoon had no idea what it was but it made Jaehwan look sinfully good.

He got a smirk like Jaehwan knew exactly what he was thinking.

“You know,” he said thoughtfully, turning back to the mirror to check his hair again, “most men would be attempting to jump me by now.”

The growl escaped before Taekwoon could stop it, and he slammed the door shut behind him before he’d thought about it and started stalking across the room.

“Ah, ah,” Jaehwan chided, waggling a finger at Taekwoon like he was a disobedient _child._ “No marks right before my mission. I’m supposed to go meet Oh Sehun today.”

Taekwoon caught him around the waist, fingers slipping over smooth fabric as he drew Jaehwan against him and kissed him soundly. “Don’t let him touch you,” he begged – demanded.

Jaehwan’s hands came to rest on Taekwoon’s upper arms and his face went unusually soft. “It’s part of the job,” he said, the tone of his voice still teasing in spite of his reassuring expression. “I have to get him to trust me.”

“Just don’t–” Taekwoon paused, short of words, and squeezed Jaehwan around the waist.

“I made a promise,” Jaehwan murmured, his voice finally going softer to match his face. He was shaking, and Taekwoon drew him impossibly closer. “You of all people should know that I don’t go back on my word.”

_Mark my words, Jung Taekwoon. Someday you’ll want me._

Taekwoon took a breath, and then another. He kissed Jaehwan again and then withdrew, afraid of what he would do or say if he allowed himself to continue the close contact. Instead, he took Jaehwan’s hand and pressed a key into it.

Jaehwan eyed it with some surprise, his eyebrows raised a fraction. “What’s this?”

“You should look the part,” Taekwoon mumbled, fighting down the embarrassment that was threatening to surface. “Just don’t break it.”

“Jung Taekwoon,” Jaehwan said, his thumb running over the key fob with misplaced reverence. “Are these the keys to your car?”

“Don’t break it,” Taekwoon repeated, ignoring the adoring expression that was blooming on Jaehwan’s face in favor of looking at the light fixture on the wall. It made his eyes burn. _Good,_ he thought stubbornly.

Jaehwan practically leapt on him, peppering kisses over Taekwoon’s face until he was pushed away forcefully. “Thank you,” he chirped. “I’ll take good care of it!”

Taekwoon watched him bounce out of the room and down the hall and couldn’t even regret loaning Jaehwan his favorite car. He reminded himself that he’d done it because it would make Jaehwan look like the corporate heir he was attempting to portray, and that it had nothing to do with sentiment, and then he went back to his own bedroom and didn’t bother going to see Jaehwan off.

–

The leather steering wheel creaked gently beneath Jaehwan’s grip, and he exhaled slowly. He hadn’t driven much in years, and navigating the congested city streets in _Taekwoon’s precious car_ was more than a little nerve-wracking.

But, if nothing else, it distracted him from being nervous about his mission. If he was careful, he didn’t have to think at all about Oh Sehun and whether he’d be able to pull off befriending the man for the good of the family.

Instead, he thought about the look on Taekwoon’s face when he’d said _‘Don’t let him touch you’,_ thought about the way he’d kissed Jaehwan, like he was worried he might never see him again.

It was a lot to hope for, that Taekwoon felt anything significant for him, considered him anything besides a good, convenient fuck. But still there was a part of his brain dedicated specifically to hoping. It was just who he was.

The club had valet parking, and Jaehwan tossed the keys at the nearest valet as he exited the car and warned the man, “Not a scratch on it.” He slipped a twenty into the valet’s hand as he passed to make sure of it.

Inside, the host took one look at Jaehwan and waved him in. Most of the club was made up of semi-private booths with elaborate half-walls between, but there was a more open space towards the center, with the bar taking up one side and a few standing tables here and there. To Jaehwan’s left, there was a small stage with a piano and a microphone set on it.

Oh Sehun was sitting at the bar, turned towards the room with one elbow leaning back on the counter behind him. A martini glass was perched in his fingers and he observed the space around him over its brim.

Jaehwan approached, took a seat two down from Sehun’s so that there was an empty stool between them, and ordered a Manhattan from the bartender who hopped to attention at his approach.

He waited. His drink was served and he slid cash across the counter, murmured, “Keep the change,” and waited.

“You’re new here,” Oh Sehun said finally, tilting his head slightly towards Jaehwan. His eyes were alert and intelligent. He was watching Jaehwan warily, for all that he was pretending casual interest.

Jaehwan took a sip of his drink, making sure that both the Rolex around his wrist and his diamond cufflink caught the light. “It’s not my usual haunt, no,” he replied, and flashed Sehun the ghost of a smirk.

Sehun turned a little further in Jaehwan’s direction. “And where is your usual haunt?” he asked, still that bored tone of half-interest.

“Does it matter?” Jaehwan countered, and cocked his head to one side. He gazed up at Sehun through his lashes.

 _Two things catch Oh Sehun’s attention,_ he could almost hear Sanghyuk’s voice telling him, _wealth and sex appeal._

“Maybe not,” Sehun agreed, and Jaehwan could feel him caving, could see the way Sehun’s posture swayed slightly towards him before he corrected. He was still tense, still suspicious, but Jaehwan hadn’t started the conversation; Sehun had. “I’m Oh Sehun.”

Jaehwan reached out and matched Sehun’s firm handshake. “Lee Jaehwan,” he replied. They’d considered an alias, but had finally discarded the idea as too risky. He was in this room as nothing more or less than his father’s son. It would only work if the news of his disgrace hadn’t spread too widely – but knowing his father, it had never been spoken of even in whispers.

“Oh, a corporate heir,” Sehun murmured, with the implication, _that explains a lot._

Jaehwan gave him the coy smile that drove Taekwoon insane, offered a wry, “Only if my father ever decides to give the company up.” He let his fingers trail over Sehun’s palm as their handshake ended.

Sehun’s smile was lopsided and slightly boyish still. It softened the severe lines of his face and the perpetually grumpy expression that his fierce eyebrows gave him. “That’s the complaint I hear from half of all corporate heirs – the other half is always, ‘my father wants me to take over the company.’”

“So which are you?” Jaehwan asked, over the lip of his martini glass.

“Me?” Sehun said, looking surprised that Jaehwan had asked, though Jaehwan wasn’t sure whether it was genuine or just a front. “I’m neither.”

“Not a corporate heir? Or just not a whiner?” Jaehwan pressed, and took a sip of his drink. He touched his tongue to the rim as he pulled it away from his mouth, the tiniest, least noticeable movement he could possibly manage, but he saw Sehun’s eyes lock onto it.

Sehun seemed to consider his question, humming thoughtfully around a sip of his own drink. His rings sparkled in the club’s warm lighting. “Neither, I suppose,” he said at last. He flashed Jaehwan a smirk and added, “Except in bed.”

Jaehwan felt a shiver go through him, involuntary. Oh Sehun was most definitely coming on to him, and it was having the usual effect. He could feel warmth pooling in his belly, arousal and satisfaction in equal measure.

 _Taekwoon,_ he thought fiercely, and shut the train of thought down before it could go any further. He had a mission.

“I’m curious,” he said, changing the subject entirely, “what a handsome man like you is doing by himself at the bar when he could obviously have his pick of the room.”

Sehun looked at him sidelong for a moment, and then crooked a single finger, leaning in when Jaehwan did. “Who said I haven’t made my choice already?” he murmured into Jaehwan’s ear, low and sultry.

 _Oh._ That was not how Jaehwan had expected things to go. He’d thought he would have to do more hedging and cajoling, that he would have to gain Sehun’s trust.

He understood that if he went along this, accepted Sehun’s advances, then Sehun would expect something from him and would get suspicious if he suddenly refused. But he needed to get close to Sehun, and if this was the only way to do it….

 _Don’t let him touch you,_ he could hear Taekwoon saying in his head.

And Hongbin, _You don’t have to sleep with Oh Sehun._

But if Sehun and his organization were doing something that would harm Hongbin and his, Jaehwan needed to find out what it was. He had done worse for information. He had killed and tortured men, he had been deep undercover in North Korea and stood by and watched grotesque acts be committed because he couldn’t risk stepping in.

In comparison to that, in comparison to being tortured for three months and finally breaking and betraying the country he’d sworn his life to protect, this was nothing. The oath that he would be breaking here was nothing.

He slid his drink over and moved onto the stool directly beside Sehun, leaned into his personal space and turned the charm up even further. He showed off the graceful line of his neck and angled his head so that his silhouette was illuminated to his best advantage and he let his fingers casually trail over Sehun’s arm. “I thought perhaps you were only entertaining yourself with me until your date arrived,” he said.

Sehun dropped his hand over Jaehwan’s on the bartop and started slowly tracing over his knuckles with one finger. “I’m not waiting for anyone tonight,” he said. “You?”

Jaehwan gave him a very slow once-over and then shook his head once. “No, I came alone,” he replied.

Oh Sehun would be an incredibly lucky catch for any other person. He was handsome and charming and dressed in a bespoke suit that was worth at least as much as most peoples’ cars, Jaehwan would bet. He held a martini glass like he’d been born with one in his hand and he was so relaxed in the midst of one of the ritziest clubs in Seoul that you would almost think he owned the place.

“Can I buy you a drink, Jaehwan?” Sehun asked casually. He tilted his head back a bit and gave Jaehwan another lopsided smile.

So Jaehwan swallowed the anxiety and the guilt and the worry over what Taekwoon would do when he found out, and forced himself to smile back. “I’d like that,” he murmured, making his voice flirty, letting himself drift closer to Sehun.

Sehun flagged down the bartender with a single raised finger. “Another Manhattan?” he asked Jaehwan, raising one dramatic eyebrow in question. When Jaehwan inclined his head in acceptance, Sehun repeated the order to the bartender. “And bourbon on the rocks for me,” he added, and didn’t watch the man walk away to prepare their order.

“A bourbon man, huh?” Jaehwan hummed, tilting a smile at Sehun.

Sehun leaned his elbow on the bar and propped his head on his fist. “Sometimes,” he said. “If it’s good bourbon.”

Jaehwan couldn’t help the chuckle. “I thought you were supposed to drink good bourbon neat, to _‘appreciate the flavor’,”_ he said, fighting not to make air quotes. He let his fingers brush Sehun’s arm again instead.

He actually got a little snort of a laugh out of Sehun, who said, “If I’m paying forty thousand won a glass for it, I can drink it however I want.”

“Touché,” Jaehwan agreed. His smile was more real now. Mission or no, he couldn’t help the fact that Oh Sehun was genuinely funny and interesting. He couldn’t help that Sehun’s laughter was cute, and the way that he wrinkled his nose was cute, and that when he smiled his face scrunched up in a way that reminded Jaehwan of Taekwoon.

_Don’t let him touch you. Don’t go to anyone else._

_I made a promise. You of all people should know I don’t go back on my word._

He let his hand drop to trace over the top of Sehun’s knee and tried not to think about Taekwoon.

_Don’t make me regret it._

Jaehwan should have known it wouldn’t last. Nothing good ever did. Not for him, not after what he’d done. He laughed at another one of Oh Sehun’s jokes and he drank the Manhattan that Sehun bought for him.

And when Oh Sehun quietly suggested, “Should we get out of here?” the only response that Jaehwan could give was a soft agreement.

Sehun led him out of the club with a hand at the small of his back. He led Jaehwan to his car and drove him to one of the ritziest hotels in the city and he booked them a room with his arm around Jaehwan’s waist the whole time.

Everyone knew what they were there for, but no one could say a word. Not to Oh Sehun, not to one of the richest men in Seoul, who had come into the hotel with another man of clear wealth. Not when they knew that their jobs or possibly even their lives were at stake if they dared say a word.

They took the elevator to the top floor. Sehun nosed into Jaehwan’s neck the whole way, his breath hot and smelling of bourbon.

Sehun had booked them a suite. A wide picture window took up one entire side of the main room and showed a fantastic view of the city skyline, bright with artificial lights. Sehun pressed Jaehwan against the glass and kissed him, scraped his tongue along Jaehwan’s teeth and aligned their bodies to rub their hardening cocks together.

It was a thrill to know that another man was interested in him. Jaehwan told himself that was the feeling that was curling in his gut and kissed Sehun back.

They made it to the bedroom eventually, and Sehun dipped his hand into the inside pocket of his suit jacket before Jaehwan pulled it off, scattered condoms and little packets of lube over the bedspread.

He divested Jaehwan of his shirt before he could argue, but it didn’t seem to matter. The room was dark, and Sehun was scooting up the bed, stripping himself naked and reaching for a packet of lube to stretch himself open.

Jaehwan hadn’t been inside another man in more than three years, not since before–

It was nearly overwhelming, when he fucked into Sehun, shoved his cock inside him and listened to Sehun keen. He pressed Sehun’s hands down against the mattress when they started scrabbling for purchase on his shoulders and couldn’t help the flash of memory, the reminder of Taek–

Sehun’s tells were obvious. He was vocal and unashamed of his own pleasure. “Yes, there,” he would say, and Jaehwan would keep the angle. “God, more,” and Jaehwan would fuck him harder. He wrapped his hand around Sehun’s cock, willing him to come faster, willing it to be over.

He was still shuddering with aftershocks, his hands still shaking, as he tied off the condom and discarded it. Sehun heaved a great sigh and sat up, curling towards Jaehwan’s chest, kissing his shoulder.

Jaehwan had marks on his neck from Sehun’s teeth. He could feel them.

“So I have a confession,” Sehun murmured.

Jaehwan froze, his heart in his throat and ice in his veins. He could still feel the phantom sensation of Sehun’s ass around his dick. “Oh yeah?” he said, forcing his voice even.

“Mm,” Sehun hummed, and pressed another kiss to Jaehwan’s shoulder. “I’d heard rumors about you. The best fuck in Seoul, they called you. And then three years ago you just...stopped. You practically disappeared and no one knew why. People even said that your father locked you up so that you’d stop dragging the family name through the mud.”

 _He did a little worse than that,_ Jaehwan wanted to say. “Not locked up,” he muttered instead.

Sehun bit him, lightly. “I can see that,” he said. “But I...might have been curious. To see if the rumors were true.”

“Were they?” Jaehwan asked, distant as though he didn’t really care for the answer. It was late. He wondered if Tae–

Sehun sat up further and pulled Jaehwan in for a long, lingering kiss. “I think the reality is better,” he purred.

Jaehwan let out a little huff of a laugh, let Sehun kiss him and fondle his chest.

It wasn’t really surprising, when Sehun’s hand dropped down further and started playing with Jaehwan’s dick.

He put his thoughts on lockdown, shut out the repeat of _Don’t let him–,_ and made a soft, aroused noise into the kiss.

–

“You’re leaving?” Sehun mumbled, his voice sleep-rough.

Jaehwan glanced back at him, halfway through tying his second shoe. “Sorry,” he murmured. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Sehun crawled over to the edge of the bed where Jaehwan was sitting and wrapped himself around Jaehwan’s waist like a barnacle. “I was gonna order us breakfast before you went,” he whined petulantly.

“Sorry,” Jaehwan repeated, letting his hand drop to sift through Sehun’s fine dark hair. “Maybe another time.”

Sehun eyed him through his lashes. “Whenever you want,” he said easily. “I had fun last night.”

They sat in silence for a while, and Jaehwan watched the sky outside the window get lighter and lighter.

“I should go,” he said at last.

Sehun patted Jaehwan’s pockets until he found his phone and extracted it. He tapped at the screen for a moment and then held it up for Jaehwan to see as something started buzzing somewhere in the vicinity of Sehun’s discarded pants. “There,” he said, “now we have each other’s numbers.”

He didn’t say anything more about it, didn’t even really ask Jaehwan to call him, but it was implied.

Jaehwan hadn’t even gotten anything useful out of him. All that time wasted – _no,_ he told himself. _Not wasted, just part of a larger plan. Gain his trust, make him think you would never betray him, and then he’ll start imparting secrets._

He’d been a double agent before. He knew how this worked.

“Maybe I’ll see you later, then,” Jaehwan said, rising.

Sehun sat up on his knees and tugged Jaehwan down by his lapels for a slow kiss. “Definitely,” he agreed with a smirk.

Jaehwan let himself out of the suite. He rode the elevator down twenty floors knowing that he _looked_ like he was making a walk of shame and couldn’t find it in himself to care.

He took a cab back to the club. There was a whole new set of valets there, but they found his car and he tipped extra generously for the inconvenience of leaving it there overnight.

When it was brought around he almost couldn’t bring himself to get in it.

It was a steel-gray Audi sports car, one of those with a little plaque in it: 36 of 999. It was Taekwoon’s pride and joy.

And he’d loaned it to Jaehwan.

He did slide into the driver’s seat, finally. The leather cradled his body so perfectly that it felt like it was made for him. The steering wheel was warm underneath his hands.

He did not cry.

The drive home was easier than the drive to the club had been. It was early enough in the morning that the traffic was calmer, and Taekwoon’s car coasted easily down the half-empty streets.

The house was still quiet when he got in. Most of them would still be in their rooms, going through their morning routines or whatever it was that they did before he saw them. But Hongbin, ever the early riser, was in the front sitting room, curled up in an armchair with a cup of coffee cradled in his hands. He was staring out the window at the garden beyond.

Jaehwan walked into the sitting room and just stood there, unsure what to say.

Eventually, Hongbin’s gaze turned towards him and he asked, “How did it go?”

“I made progress,” Jaehwan said, ignoring that his voice was strained and it felt like he was choking on the words. “It might take a little while for him to trust me enough to say anything, but I have his phone number now and he expects to see me again.”

“Good,” Hongbin said, and then was quiet, watching Jaehwan the same way he’d been watching whatever was outside the window. “Are you alright?”

Jaehwan shook his head and muttered, “I’m fine. Just tired.” He loosened the tight grip he had around Taekwoon’s keys and set them down on the coffee table directly in front of him. “Can you return these to Taekwoon?”

Hongbin’s eyebrows knit together and he said, “Hyung, are you–”

But Jaehwan had already turned away. He waved vaguely at Hongbin over his shoulder and announced, “I’m going back to bed.”

He went up to his room and didn’t come out all day. No one tried to make him.

–

Sanghyuk did not, as a general rule, get involved in the affairs of others. His job as Hongbin’s spymaster meant that he knew everything that everyone was getting up to at any given time. But it was very rare that he did anything with the information other than pass it on to Hongbin when he deemed it appropriate.

Sanghyuk knew, for instance, that Hongbin always stopped at Starbucks on his way to his doctor’s appointments, even though he’d told Hakyeon that he would stop ingesting so much sugar. He knew that Hakyeon did a lot of online shopping when he was stressed, which was always. He knew that Taekwoon sat down with his knives every evening and checked over and sharpened each one as needed – unless he was with Jaehwan.

He knew where Wonshik went on his nights off.

The point was, Sanghyuk knew everything, about everyone. The fact that he’d missed Jaehwan’s military background, that he hadn’t realized how much Jaehwan was hiding from them, was a huge failing on his part and he’d taken it personally.

So he’d decided that he needed to find out _exactly_ how much of Jaehwan’s record had actually been expunged.

If Hongbin knew that he was attempting to hack a top-secret military database, he would probably tell Sanghyuk to stop. After all, Jaehwan had told them the truth. He’d confessed his crimes and sworn his loyalty to Hongbin and the organization, and that should have been the end of it.

But Sanghyuk couldn’t let it go. It was too large a blow to his pride.

It had taken him days, partially because he was doing his absolute best to hide his tracks. If he got caught and it was traced back to them, he would definitely be in trouble. Hongbin didn’t easily forgive those who put his people in danger for no good reason.

Not that this wasn’t a good reason, but Sanghyuk thought it was better just to be safe.

He didn’t expect to find much. A few hints, maybe, a mention of Jaehwan’s real rank and the reason he’d been dismissed.

What he uncovered, when he got deep enough to find any record of Jaehwan _at all_ beyond what the general public knew, was so much more than he’d even hoped for.

Jaehwan’s entire file was there, encrypted so heavily that it had taken Sanghyuk two days to crack.

 _Major Lee Jaehwan._ There were only, what, five ranks above where he’d been? There would have been six in any branch but the Marines. He hadn’t been kidding about how fast he’d risen, how high his security clearance had reached. There were few government secrets he wouldn’t have had access to, especially when he became Special Ops.

His mission specifications were there too, his briefing and debriefing and all of the reports that he’d been able to make before his cover was blown. It would take hours to read it all in detail, but even just skimming it Sanghyuk could tell that it was bad.

And then he came across the _last_ thing that he’d expected.

He didn’t know why he got up and stormed out of the room, all the way to the other wing of the house to pound on Jaehwan’s door until he opened it, looking disgruntled. His eyes were puffy and bloodshot and his face was unusually pale, but Sanghyuk took it all in with the same detached interest with which he observed the rest of the world.

He was, after all, just a bit busy screeching, “You’re _married?”_

Sanghyuk honestly wasn’t sure how he’d thought Jaehwan would react to the pronouncement, but it was still a surprise that Jaehwan shushed him, glanced out in the hall to check if anyone was near enough to have heard, and then dragged Sanghyuk into his room via a fistful of his shirt and slammed the door shut behind him.

Sanghyuk stumbled and narrowly managed to avoid getting his face intimately acquainted with Jaehwan’s carpet.

Jaehwan just leaned back against the heavy oak door and hissed, “What the hell did you say?”

“You’re married,” Sanghyuk repeated, possibly against his best interests. He’d just spent three (no wait, like five) hours reading Jaehwan’s service record. He knew exactly how many people this man had killed and yet there he was antagonizing him like an idiot. Sometimes Sanghyuk wondered if he secretly had a death wish. “To a North Korean woman. To a member of Kim Jong Un’s _family–”_

“Not technically,” Jaehwan said, cutting him off sharply. He crossed his arms and stared Sanghyuk down.

Sanghyuk squeaked, “Not _technically?”_ Great, he sounded like a fucking idiot. Just what he needed.

Jaehwan took a very deep breath and closed his eyes as he exhaled. “Sanghyuk,” he said slowly, “I’m really fucking gay.”

“Being gay doesn’t negate the fact that you took marriage vows–”

“That were deemed invalid because when I made them, I was lying about who I was,” Jaehwan said. His voice was very even. “It was part of the mission, Sanghyuk. I had to get close. I had to get them to trust me. I had to make sure that my mission was a success. Nothing else mattered. My personal feelings didn’t matter. I’m not married.”

His eyes were still closed. Sanghyuk realized, suddenly, that the man he was seeing right then was the real Jaehwan, or as close to it as he was capable of getting anymore. He looked very tired.

He couldn’t imagine going to a foreign country and seeing who knows how many horrors and being forced to hide who he truly was. He couldn’t imagine pretending to love someone for the sake of a mission or – he froze, and took in Jaehwan’s expression again. He couldn’t imagine pretending _not_ to love someone, for the sake of a mission.

“How long have you and Taekwoon-hyung–?” he asked haltingly.

Jaehwan flinched at Taekwoon’s name. “We haven’t anything,” he replied, and maybe he thought he was faking it well enough, but Sanghyuk could hear the way his voice was shaking. “We’re nothing to each other. He probably won’t even touch me, after Oh Sehun–”

He cut himself off abruptly and didn’t even try to finish the sentence.

Sanghyuk stood watching him for a time, uncertain what he could do or say to make it better. He knew everything about everyone, but he never _did_ anything with that information. He wasn’t sure he’d ever comforted someone in his life.

“Please just go,” Jaehwan said after a while, pushing off the door and shuffling over to the bed. He flopped down on it, shoved his face into a pillow, and didn’t move.

There was nothing that Sanghyuk could do for him. He left, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

He pretended that he didn’t hear the low sob that Jaehwan let out just before it shut.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dubcon: Jaehwan sleeps with Sehun. They both technically consent, but Jaehwan is obviously uncomfortable and broken up about it and he can't stop thinking about the fact that he's being unfaithful to Taekwoon. If that doesn't sound like your cup of tea or you think it might trigger you in some way, you can start scrolling when they hit the hotel elevator and tune back in after the scene break.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully this chapter offers a little solace after the pain of the last one. I swear I'm not going to torture them forever. There is a brief sex scene between Jaehwan and Sehun but I sort of skim over it so it's like one line.
> 
> ...oh and 'yellow cash' refers to 50,000 won notes, in case you didn't know.

 

_ Join me for dinner, _ Sehun had said over the phone. So Jaehwan was there, at one of the swankiest restaurants in Seoul – one of those places where they didn’t bother to put prices on the menu and the only cash anyone bothered using was yellow – dressed to the nines because there was no way they’d let him in otherwise no matter who he was meeting. 

He’d driven Hongbin’s car, an understated black BMW, and though it didn’t draw eyes the way Taekwoon’s did it was...easier.

He hadn’t seen Taekwoon in days. It helped that he’d been avoiding family meals, only going to the gym downstairs when he  _ knew  _ that Taekwoon was out of the house. He’d barely left his bedroom except to meet with Sehun or to make appearances at other places where the high-society gossips were likely to get word back to Sehun about it.

His mother probably knew by now. Not that it mattered.

Sehun was already seated at a table, wearing a double-breasted black suit, too many rings, and onyx cufflinks. His hair had gone from its natural dark brown to platinum blond in the two days since Jaehwan had last seen him. He smiled when Jaehwan sat down.

“It’s good to see you, Hyung.”

Jaehwan made himself smile back. He reached out and covered Sehun’s hand with his for a moment, replied, “Good to see you too, Sehun. How have you been?” It was a throwaway question. A basic social pleasantry.

But Sehun slumped a little in his seat, turned his hand over to grip Jaehwan’s fingers, and pouted. “I got yelled at today,” he complained.

“That sucks,” Jaehwan said, commiserating, and leaned his chin on his fist. An old man at the table next to them gave him a dirty look but he ignored it. “Was it at least warranted?”

“I mean.” Sehun shrugged. “Kind of? I’m doing the job I’m supposed to but it’s just not...going as fast as they want.”

Jaehwan made a little pouty face back at him and it made Sehun crack a little smile. “That’s the worst,” he said. “Sometimes you can’t do stuff fast if you want the work to be quality.”

Sehun started playing with Jaehwan’s fingers. “Yeah, I know. And I think the boss knows too, he’s just getting impatient. Everything is tense because of this job, you know?”

“Yeah, I get that,” Jaehwan murmured, and tried not to think of the abrupt silences the few times he had walked into a room of the house that contained other people over the last couple of weeks.

“Anyway,” Sehun said, and he seemed to physically shake off the bad mood. “We came here to have a good time and get away from work. Let’s order.” He waved down a waiter.

Dinner was...nice. Pleasant. Jaehwan genuinely enjoyed Sehun’s company and he thought that if things had been different, if he’d met Sehun through his parents’ contacts or at a high-end bar that he was visiting for fun instead of while specifically trying to pick Sehun up to spy on him, they might even have been friends.

They drank an entire bottle of wine between them and had to hire a driver to pick them up.

Jaehwan was used to the hotel by now, so familiar with the suite that Sehun always booked that he’d started thinking of it as  _ theirs. _

He laid Sehun out on his belly and fucked him until he screamed. And afterwards he let Sehun curl up against his side and fall asleep with his head on Jaehwan’s chest.

He ignored the curl of heat in his belly that had nothing to do with arousal. He pretended that he could think about something other than the weeks he’d spent on this with nothing to show for it. If he closed his eyes he could almost make himself believe that it was Taekwoon that he was holding, Taekwoon breathing hot and damp against his skin.

He couldn’t afford to think of Taekwoon while they were fucking. But there, in the silence, with Sehun snoozing against his chest and no chance that he would say the wrong thing, he could imagine that he was with Taekwoon and that everything would be okay.

_ Don’t let him touch you. _

Jaehwan had gone so far beyond that.

–

He felt like a fool sneaking into his own home at half past five in the morning, but it was better than seeing any of them. Better than watching Hongbin’s face crumple in concern, Hakyeon’s in sympathy. Wonshik was just tense and Sanghyuk avoided eye contact as much as Jaehwan did, since their encounter regarding his mission in the North. And Taekwoon….

Well, he skittered past rooms that Taekwoon was in and looked away from him so that he wouldn’t have to see whatever expression Taekwoon might be making. He wondered, sometimes, if it would be hurt or anger or (most painful of all) just icy indifference. But he couldn’t bear to know. He couldn’t look at Taekwoon and know what he’d done and expect to be able to finish his mission.

If he lost everything for it either way, he would at least finish the mission.

He was gentle with the door, nodded silently at the servants who were darting about in the quiet getting things ready for the day. They were only in the house at certain times of the day and nearly invisible even then, but Jaehwan always saw them. They’d only recently stopped ducking their heads like they were going to be punished whenever he acknowledged them.

His room wasn’t empty when he crept inside, and he almost fled again. He didn’t know where he was going to go, just that he needed to leave.

He almost made it, was halfway back out the door when Taekwoon caught his elbow and boxed him in against the wall.

Jaehwan dropped his eyes, stared at the wear pattern in the carpet and counted his breaths. “Let me go,” he begged, and didn’t mean for it to sound so broken.

“No,” Taekwoon replied, voice quiet but steel-firm.

So Jaehwan fought him, tried to push Taekwoon away despite the differing bulk of their bodies but was caught again, caught and held as the rhythm of his breathing kicked up a notch and his heart started to pound.

“Stop,” Taekwoon said, that same soft command. He gripped Jaehwan’s shoulders and pressed him against the wall and Jaehwan couldn’t help but remember the last time that Taekwoon had held him like this and his eyes started prickling. He couldn’t get enough air. “Jaehwan. Just stop.”

“Why?” Jaehwan whined. He shoved at Taekwoon’s chest again ineffectively, fingers digging into hard muscle.

Taekwoon’s head dipped down and Jaehwan expected Taekwoon to bite him. He expected abrasiveness and rough treatment and anger.

Taekwoon nuzzled his ear, laid their cheeks together and simply breathed against him for a moment. “What happened?” he asked.

Jaehwan’s breath hitched in a sob. He felt the first warm tears brimming in his eyes and he curled his hands into fists. “I gave you my word,” he whispered.

“You did,” Taekwoon agreed. He pushed closer, put his hand on the back of Jaehwan’s head and guided it down to his shoulder.

The wet of Jaehwan’s tears soaked into Taekwoon’s soft sleep shirt and his shoulders trembled with sobs, but he finally managed to force out, “I always keep my promises. But this time...this time I couldn’t.”

Taekwoon curled his arms around Jaehwan, held him close and pressed a kiss to his hair and finally murmured, “Where did he touch you?”

It startled Jaehwan out of crying. “What?”

“Where did he touch you?” Taekwoon repeated.

Jaehwan pulled back, out of Taekwoon’s arms, and Taekwoon let him this time. He even took a step back to give Jaehwan space to breathe. “I – everywhere, Taekwoon. Everywhere. I’ve been sleeping with him for  _ weeks.” _

Taekwoon let out a low growl, a sound he didn’t seem capable of controlling, but then his hands were on Jaehwan’s shoulders again and he repeated, “Everywhere?”

“Yes,” Jaehwan said, nodding stupidly. “I’ve fucked him a dozen times,  _ at least.” _

“You’ve fucked him?” Taekwoon asked, his hands sliding down to cup Jaehwan’s ass. “Or he fucked you?”

“I fucked him,” Jaehwan said. “Taekwoon, what the hell–”

“Then you haven’t broken your promise,” Taekwoon interrupted, surprising Jaehwan silent. He didn’t move, apparently waiting for Jaehwan’s response.

It took a moment, but finally Jaehwan said again, “What the hell, Jung Taekwoon.”

Taekwoon squeezed his butt, almost more a hand spasm than a voluntary action. “Has he seen your back?” he asked.

“Of  _ course not,” _ Jaehwan told him. “What do you think I am, an idiot? I hid them from you for  _ three years, _ do you really think I’m going to show them to fucking Oh Sehun just for shits and giggles?”

Taekwoon waited patiently for Jaehwan to finish his rant, and then he took Jaehwan’s face in both broad palms and kissed him. He kissed him the way that Jaehwan always wanted to be kissed, the way that only Jung Taekwoon could kiss. It was all teeth and bruising pressure and Taekwoon seeming as though he wanted to devour Jaehwan’s mouth and it was  _ perfect. _

Jaehwan let out another sob, right into Taekwoon’s mouth, and Taekwoon swallowed that too and pressed Jaehwan back against the wall again.

When he lined their bodies up and started thrusting against Jaehwan’s hip, Jaehwan broke the kiss and breathed, “Wait, wait.”

Taekwoon pulled back with an impatient huff. “What?” he muttered.

Jaehwan stroked the sides of Taekwoon’s neck, where his hands had landed somewhere in the middle of the kiss, and looked Taekwoon in the eye when he said, “I don’t want to sleep with you when I still have him all over me.”

Taekwoon took a shuddering breath, clearly trying to calm himself. It came out half on a growl, but he backed up half a step and asked, “So what are you saying?”

“Shower with me,” Jaehwan said, and couldn’t help the smile, couldn’t force it down or pretend that he wasn’t feeling euphoric with the knowledge that somehow he hadn’t ruined everything. There were tiny fairy wings fluttering inside every one of his veins and they all beat double time when Taekwoon nodded once and followed him into the bathroom.

Jaehwan took great relish in tossing his expensive tailored suit onto the floor, stripping down and stepping into the flood of hot water and feeling Taekwoon follow him in. He reached for the shampoo but Taekwoon beat him to it, and then there were careful hands in his hair and Jaehwan had to put a hand against the tiled wall so he wouldn’t fall over, he was so relaxed.

Taekwoon took his time massaging the shampoo into Jaehwan’s hair, and then maneuvered him gently beneath the spray of the showerhead and sifted his fingers through the strands until all the suds were gone.

Jaehwan turned to kiss him, tugged Taekwoon close by the nape of his neck and sucked Taekwoon’s bottom lip between his. Taekwoon was so soft against him, so pliant and willing and so, so different from his usual abrasive self. Jaehwan couldn’t help but wonder which side of him was more true.

When Taekwoon reached for the bath sponge and started lathering up Jaehwan’s skin, he couldn’t help but think that perhaps this was Taekwoon’s true nature, the person that he was in front of someone that he–

Jaehwan cut the thought off if only because he still couldn’t allow himself too much hope. That Taekwoon had accepted him back at all after what he’d done was a miracle. He wouldn’t be so selfish as to ask for anything more than that.

By the time they were both clean – really, thoroughly clean, Taekwoon made sure of it – they were also hard and aching. Jaehwan hadn’t quite been able to keep from teasing while he returned the favor, washing Taekwoon’s hair and running a soapy sponge over that gorgeous body. And of course, Taekwoon had responded in kind, scraping his teeth over Jaehwan’s skin, touching him in all the right ways and all the right places.

He was careful not to leave marks, even without a reminder. Jaehwan appreciated it even as the thought of returning to Sehun’s bed made him wince. He didn’t know if he’d be able to after this, but he knew that he didn’t have a choice, so he shoved it to the back of his mind and didn’t think about it.

It was so much more fun to think about Taekwoon, wet and naked and right in front of him. Taekwoon who patiently toweled Jaehwan’s hair dry and then ran the same towel over his own hair in one cursory sweep before herding them back out into the bedroom.

Taekwoon who lifted Jaehwan without warning and set him on the bed, who rolled him over and spent what felt like hours kissing and licking and sucking his way across all the marks on his back.

Jaehwan felt so soft and pliant and relaxed by the time that Taekwoon retrieved the lube that he was half-convinced that he didn’t need any prep. But Taekwoon was slow and patient with that too, spreading and thrusting his fingers until Jaehwan was humping the bed and crying out with every touch.

And then he was pressing in, steady and slow, fluttering kisses across the breadth of Jaehwan’s shoulders as he moved. It wasn’t until he was all the way inside that Jaehwan realized he wasn’t wearing a condom and said, “Wait, I’ve been–”

Taekwoon shushed him. “You’ve been safe?” he asked.

“Well, yeah,” Jaehwan muttered, in a tone that implied that Taekwoon was an idiot for even asking. “But still, we’re–”

“Then I’ll trust you,” Taekwoon said.

It was incredibly, phenomenally stupid. But Jaehwan let it go, snuggled into the pillow and felt the warm weight of Taekwoon over his back and was  _ content. _

Even after all the foreplay, all the teasing, the pleasure built slowly. Taekwoon set an almost glacial pace, taking a full inhale and exhale between every thrust and kissing every bit of Jaehwan’s skin that he could reach.

Jaehwan’s dick was trapped between his belly and the mattress, and he didn’t particularly care. Every movement of Taekwoon’s hips made Jaehwan shift just enough that the friction was maddening, but he was in such a thick haze of pleasure that it didn’t matter.

Taekwoon’s hands swept up and down his back, and he shifted so that he could suck a hickey over Jaehwan’s shoulder blade. It wouldn’t even be obvious, with all the scarring, but Jaehwan was beginning to realize that that wasn’t why Taekwoon did it anyway.

It had to end eventually. As much as Jaehwan would have liked to lock them in that time and place for the rest of eternity, he knew it was impossible. And so when Taekwoon finally picked up the pace, started chasing an end instead of just enjoying the journey, Jaehwan struggled to get a hand beneath himself to give his dick more friction.

Taekwoon helped him, lifting Jaehwan’s hips a few inches off the bed and swatting Jaehwan’s hand away in favor of wrapping his own around him and stroking fast and hard.

His orgasm overtook him, made his vision go white and his back arch until it felt like he’d strained something.

He heard Taekwoon cry out behind him, soft and high on Jaehwan’s name.

For a moment they were frozen, the only sound in the room their heaving breaths. And then eventually Taekwoon pulled out and rolled them to their sides. He curled around Jaehwan’s back, tangling their legs together, and it was so much, almost  _ too  _ much. The were both hot and sweaty and Jaehwan’s heart was still pounding.

Taekwoon’s hand came to rest on Jaehwan’s sternum, fingers spreading out over his heart, and a million tiny fairies took up residence in his chest.

_ I love you, _ Jaehwan’s brain said, over and over,  _ I love you I love you I love you Love you Love you loveyou loveyou loveyouloveyouloveyouloveyou  _ in time with the wingbeats. In time with his heart.

A nose nuzzling in his hair. Taekwoon snuffling, soft and contented and halfway asleep already, holding Jaehwan of his own accord.

_ I love you, _ Jaehwan’s heart said, and he swallowed it down because he still didn’t know what they were.

He would complete his mission. But he would come home to Taekwoon, and he would make this right. Because he wanted more than anything to have this for the rest of forever and longer, if he could manage it.

–

They were woken, sometime later, by a pounding on the door.

“Are you done fucking yet?” Sanghyuk’s voice screeched through the heavy wood. “Hongbin won’t let us eat breakfast until everyone is there.”

Taekwoon groaned and his arms squeezed tight around Jaehwan’s waist. “Fuck off, Sanghyuk,” he shouted back.

Jaehwan giggled. Taekwoon pinched him.

Sanghyuk pounded some more and demanded, “Just get out here. Hongbin has some sort of announcement. It seemed ominous.”

“I wasn’t aware he knew such big words,” Jaehwan mumbled, while Taekwoon responded, “Fine. Just go away.”

“Ten minutes and then I come back and drag you both downstairs, clothed or otherwise,” Sanghyuk informed them, and then apparently retreated.

Taekwoon snuggled in closer against Jaehwan’s back and went still.

“No, hey,” Jaehwan said, patting Taekwoon’s hand. “We really should get up. It’s probably important if he wants us all there at once.”

He got a pathetic noise in response, and couldn’t stop his smile. Taekwoon burrowed his face between Jaehwan’s shoulder and the pillow and apparently intended to stay there.

“If you get up now, I’ll suck you off after breakfast,” Jaehwan attempted to bargain, poking Taekwoon’s arm now. He could feel Taekwoon’s morning wood, nestled comfortably between the globes of his ass, and normally he would derive great pleasure from taking care of that. But he was willing to bet that Sanghyuk hadn’t been joking about coming to drag them bodily from the room, and for all that he was probably not strong enough to take both of them Jaehwan didn’t exactly want him to walk in on that either.

Taekwoon groaned again but inhaled sharply and sat up. He rubbed his hands over his face a few times and then twisted around to look at Jaehwan, who’d turned onto his back but had otherwise stayed where he was.

“Morning,” Jaehwan said, and could feel how stupidly wide his smile was.

He got a very soft answering smile from Taekwoon, just the tiniest quirk of his lips, and he leaned down briefly to peck a kiss against Jaehwan’s mouth before he crawled out of the bed and disappeared into the bathroom.

Jaehwan gave himself another moment to lie on the bed and stare up at the ceiling and just revel in the change in their relationship. He knew that there was a lot they hadn’t talked about, and knowing them they might never talk about it. But he didn’t really care, as long as he  _ got  _ Taekwoon. As long as Taekwoon was in his bed and in his life and smiled at him like that and held Jaehwan like he was something precious and sometimes tied him up or pressed him against a wall or manhandled him like he didn’t care about Jaehwan at all–

Okay, maybe they did need to have a bit of a talk, he admitted to himself.

He had never been shy about telling Taekwoon exactly what he wanted in bed. Maybe that would be an easier place to start than discussing  _ feelings  _ and potentially ruining all the progress they’d made.

Taekwoon came out of the bathroom wearing sweatpants, his chest still bare. He leaned over Jaehwan on the bed, bracing his hands on either side of Jaehwan’s head, and accused, “You made me get up.”

Jaehwan giggled again and strained up to meet Taekwoon for a kiss. “I know, I know. I’m coming,” he promised. He rolled off the mattress as Taekwoon straightened and then padded over to the bathroom himself.

He half expected Taekwoon to be gone when he came out, but he was still there, sitting on the bed with his phone in one hand, still looking sleep-tousled and overwhelmingly sexy.

“New plan,” Jaehwan announced, leaning against the bathroom doorway and smirking when Taekwoon looked up at him. “After breakfast, fuck me again.”

Taekwoon honest-to-god  _ whimpered, _ and then he rose and strode across the room to give Jaehwan a long, hot kiss. They panted into each other’s mouths for a moment after the kiss ended, and then Taekwoon grabbed his hand and said, “Come on, let’s get this over with already.”

Jaehwan followed gladly.

Everyone was waiting around the dining table when they made it downstairs. As they walked in, Hongbin took a long, slow,  _ pointed  _ sip of his coffee and then set the cup down before he said, “It’s nice of you to join us finally.”

Refusing to be ashamed, Jaehwan plopped down directly across from Hongbin and smirked at him. “What’s wrong, brother? Are you mad that someone besides you is having sex in this house?”

Hongbin winced, which was the reaction Jaehwan had hoped for. But then he forged on as though Jaehwan hadn’t spoken, announcing, “Shit hit the fan.”

“Uh-oh,” Jaehwan muttered, and then went silent.

Every man at the table was watching Hongbin. Hakyeon and Sanghyuk didn’t look terribly surprised, but Wonshik’s eyes were wide. Taekwoon’s eyebrows pinched together and his lips thinned. His fingers clenched around the empty mug in front of him.

“Last night, half a dozen of RM’s higher-ranking members crossed territory lines and started harassing business owners that were under our protection. I had to send ten men to deal with the situation. Two of them are dead.” Hongbin’s eyes scanned them all. “This is no longer a minor turf disagreement,” he declared. “This is all-out war.”

“What does that mean for us?” Jaehwan asked. He still had so much more to learn about geondal, about how things worked for them. Who knew how many things he’d missed because he refused to talk to anyone for the last few weeks.

Hongbin lifted his coffee mug but didn’t drink. “It means that everyone who goes in and out of this house, everyone who wears my mark on their arm, and everyone too closely associated with me has now become a target. We’ll have to take extra precautions from now on. And hyung, I think we should suspend your mission for now.”

“Absolutely not,” Jaehwan said at once. The idea of returning to Oh Sehun’s bed was...not pleasant, but he would not let all his effort go to waste. “I’m close. If you just give me a little more time–”

“It’s too dangerous,” Hongbin interrupted. “I won’t put you at risk for this. Oh Sehun is not our priority right now.”

Jaehwan placed both hands flat on the table and argued, “I was already at risk. You seem to be forgetting–”

“My word is  _ law,” _ Hongbin hissed. “Oh Sehun is  _ not our priority right now. _ I need you safe within these walls where you can be protected–”

_ “Oyabun,” _ Jaehwan shouted. He didn’t remember deciding to stand, but he heard his chair scrape across the tile and he was suddenly staring down at Hongbin, so he must have. “All due respect, but you seem to be forgetting that  _ I am a soldier. _ You gave me this assignment and it is my duty to see it through.” He took a breath, got himself under control and continued in a more even tone of voice, “If I stop contacting Oh Sehun now, I will lose everything that I’ve built. We will not get another chance.”

Hongbin let out a heavy breath and slumped back in his chair. 

Hakyeon put a hand on his knee and murmured, “He’s right.”

“I know he’s right,” Hongbin replied, laying a hand over his eyes. “I just hate that he’s right.”

Jaehwan remained standing, stock still and watching Hongbin with a heavy gaze.

Hongbin’s hand finally dropped and he told Jaehwan, “Sometimes I forget that you’re my  _ older  _ brother.”

“Well, sometimes I forget that you’re younger,” Jaehwan said, shrugging. He sat down again and primly scooted his chair back up to the table. “Now, can we eat?”

Sanghyuk snickered.

Hongbin jabbed Sanghyuk in the side but then said, “Yes, we can eat.”

“Good,” Jaehwan said, reaching for the nearest serving dish. “Because I have used up  _ way  _ too many calories in the last twelve hours and I desperately need a recharge. You know, it’s exhausting trying to keep up with two–”

Hongbin held up a hand. “I’m going to stop you right there,” he said. “For the sake of my sanity, whatever you were about to say please just keep it inside your own brain.”

When Sanghyuk snickered again, Jaehwan met his eyes and winked. It was worth it for the disgusted face that Sanghyuk made.

–

“I don’t think I’m going to be able to get away for a while,” Wonshik murmured, apologetic, into the phone.

There was a heavy sigh over the line. “This fucking job, Wonshik, I swear to god.”

“I know,” Wonshik said, feeling his heart sink. God, he hated disappointing them. “I’m sorry. I  _ am.  _ But I’m needed here right now.”

“And you can’t tell us why, right?” A harsh laugh, devoid of humor. “Why couldn’t I have fallen in love with a fucking car salesman or some shit, huh?”

Wonshik winced. He cradled the phone against his face, wishing he was there with them, wishing there was something more that he could do. “It’s safer for you if you don’t know,” he said. “Look I get it. I know being with me is harder than it’s probably worth. I just want you to be happy, love.”

“Stop that,” he snapped. But then his voice softened and he said, “Kim Wonshik, you know we love you. We  _ are  _ happy. We just wish that you could be here more than you’re not.”

“I know,” Wonshik whispered. “I know, me too. Fuck, I’d spend every second of every day with you two if I could. You know that, right?”

“Of course we do.” A long silence, except for their soft breathing. “I love you, Wonshik. We both do. So take care of whatever you need to take care of and come home as soon as you can.”

Wonshik took a shuddering inhale and mumbled, “I will. I love you.”

“We’ll see you soon.”

He hung up, and Wonshik sat on his bed and just stared at the blank screen of his phone for a while. Tears dripped slowly down his face.

He didn’t know how long he’d been there when there was a bright rap on the door. He scrubbed at his face hurriedly and then yelled, “Yeah, come in.” His voice cracked.

Taekwoon swung the door open and then stopped to eye Wonshik critically for a moment. Taekwoon had been his mentor, his teacher. He knew Wonshik better than almost anyone. “Everything okay?” he asked softly.

“Yeah,” Wonshik said, and cleared his throat when the word came out rough. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Allergies.” He rubbed his nose for emphasis.

Taekwoon glanced at the closed window and then looked back at Wonshik, and clearly decided that it was a problem for another day. “Come on, then,” he said. “Hakyeon called a war counsel. Half the organization will be here.”

Wonshik sighed heavily and got up. “I’ll be right there,” he told Taekwoon, and watched him close the door behind him as he left.

He wasn’t sure he could do this anymore, he mused as he shuffled into the bathroom to wash his face. VIXX or his relationship, but each tore at the other until both were in tatters. And Wonshik was left in the middle bleeding from the heart because even then, he couldn’t choose between them.

–

Hongbin was in Hakyeon’s lap when the first of his henchmen started to arrive. It was a bit of a production that they’d created, really – though the two of them were roughly the same height, Hongbin was wider in the shoulders, had more thick fighter’s muscle compared to Hakyeon’s wiry dancer’s build. The only way for Hongbin to sit in Hakyeon’s lap without practically crushing him was to distribute his weight very carefully so that most of it truly rested on the chair, without seeming as though that was what he was doing.

But for their underlings to walk in and see strong, skilled Hongbin curled up small in Hakyeon’s lap was priceless. It was the kind of thing they worked for, the way that they kept up the charade. Everyone underestimated Hongbin for things like that, and it kept them all safe.

He slid gracefully out of Hakyeon’s lap when more and more of their people had filed in, adjusting the fall of his silk shirt over his shoulders as he padded barefoot around the bar and started mixing a drink.

They hadn’t had reason to host this many people in their back sitting room since Old Man Park died and they officially presented Hakyeon as the new leader. Barely half of these people had been there then, and even less probably remembered very much before that. Old Man Park’s death had come at the tail end of a turf war that had torn through their ranks with abandon. They had been lucky that in the end, Heechul was willing to negotiate with them.

Hongbin could only hope that this war would not end with another leadership change.

He set a martini in Hakyeon’s hand and watched him glance up from his seat with a brief half-smile. He murmured, “Thank you, Baby,” in so soft a voice that maybe only half a dozen of the nearest people would actually have heard.

Hongbin inclined his head and gave Hakyeon a shy smile that he’d practiced for months in the mirror. He could still remember a time when his shyness toward Hakyeon had been real, but those days were long gone.

He scanned the room out of habit, noting Sanghyuk with his laptop on the coffee table, Wonshik and Taekwoon hovering at the fringes of the room, near enough that they could come to Hakyeon’s aid if something happened but far enough away that it didn’t seem as though Hakyeon didn’t trust his own people.

Jaehwan had been banned from the meeting. Most of the organization didn’t know yet that he was anything but Hongbin’s brother, and Hongbin intended to keep it that way for as long as possible. There were more important things to discuss, anyway.

When the last person stepped in and the door was shut behind her, Hakyeon said loudly, “Is this all of us?” He didn’t wait for a response before he continued, “Good. Then let’s get started.” He indicated Sanghyuk, who filled in with the ease of long practice.

“Two of ours are dead.”

A murmur went through the room. A few of these people had been there during the fight, had retrieved the bodies of their fallen brothers and brought them home. Hongbin caught the eyes of a woman who had been serving since Old Man Park’s time, and then a man who had only just joined two years before. They had been the ones tasked with returning the dead to their families, of explaining to the parents why their sons would not be coming home.

After he’d given a moment for the news to sink in, Sanghyuk continued, “This was RM’s doing, and he and his will pay for it. We’re drawing battle lines and planning raids across the river. If you see any known members of BTS on our turf, you have permission to attack on sight.”

He pressed a few buttons on a remote and the lights dimmed. A quick tap on his computer and the projector mounted to the ceiling came to life and displayed a map on an empty section of the wall that was maintained for that purpose. “These are the territory lines as they were last drawn out.” He pressed another key and it changed, the dark lines indicating RM’s part of the city morphing and twisting into their area. “And this is what RM seems to think they are, based on his recent activity. We intend to push him back.”

One woman turned to Hakyeon and asked, “What’s the plan, Boss?”

“Oh Moonbyul,” Hakyeon said, holding his drink aloft just to look dramatic. He smirked at her. “I’m so glad you asked.”

Hongbin took the drink from him as Hakyeon rose, crossing the room toward the projected map. He stood beside it, seeming to examine it for a moment. In his periphery, Hongbin saw Wonshik and Taekwoon shifting their positions in response to Hakyeon’s movement.

“Do you see this blue area?” Hakyeon said, waving at RM’s section, shaded a pale blue for ease of identification.

Everyone nodded wordlessly.

Hakyeon turned, eyed them all with the bloodthirsty smirk that aroused Hongbin so. He let them stew in their confusion for a moment, watched them as they started to sweat at the scrutiny, and then finally he bit out, “We’re going to turn it green.”

It took a moment for them to understand. But only a moment, because right next to RM’s territory, separated from it with dark, weaving lines, was a green section labeled  _ VIXX. _

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a confession: I don't have the next chapter done yet. I'm working two jobs right now and they both involve a lot of typing and the tendinitis in my wrist is acting up, so between the complete exhaustion and that, I haven't gotten much writing done lately. I'm gonna try my best to get the chapter done by next Thursday, but just a head's up that if I don't post on time that's probably why.

 

“That went well,” Wonshik muttered.

The last underling had been seen out and it was just the five of them scattered throughout the back sitting room. Hakyeon had given up all pretenses of being leader and was sprawled across the chaise lounge with his head in Hongbin’s lap.

“It could have gone worse,” Sanghyuk commented from his seat on the floor in front of the coffee table. He was typing rapidly on his laptop while talking. “No one is dead.”

Taekwoon huffed and turned from the window to glare at Sanghyuk. “You mean no one _else_ is dead. Two of ours were killed last night.”

“And their deaths will be paid for, blood for blood,” Hongbin insisted. There were a thousand things that could go wrong, a hundred scenarios running through his mind as he attempted to plan for every contingency. “But we have other things to worry about as well.”

Hakyeon hummed thoughtfully. “Now more than ever we need Jaehwan’s mission to be a success. We _really_ can’t afford to be a divided front at this point.”

Hongbin dropped his hand to Hakyeon’s hair and began stroking as though he were petting a cat. He could see the tension in Taekwoon’s shoulders. “Is that going to be a problem, Leo?” he asked softly.

Taekwoon shook his head, but he wouldn’t meet Hongbin’s eyes. “No, Sir,” he murmured.

“Look, I don’t care what your relationship is,” Hongbin told him. “But I need every man and woman at the top of their game for what’s to come, _especially_ those in my inner circle.”

Taekwoon folded his hands behind his back and squared his shoulders. “Yes, Sir,” he said, and Hongbin believed him.

“Dismissed,” he said, and turned his attention away before Taekwoon had even shifted his stiff posture. “Sanghyuk. You’ve hacked my brother’s service records by now, yes?”

Sanghyuk froze guiltily, his fingers hovering above the computer keys. “I–”

“I asked a question,” Hongbin said.

Taekwoon had stopped three steps from where he’d started. Sanghyuk glanced from him to Hongbin and back several times before he whispered, “I was careful.”

“I’m sure you were,” Hongbin agreed, arching one eyebrow meaningfully. Sanghyuk didn’t need a scolding for this. He knew that he’d put them in danger and he would probably do it again. But it certainly drove him to work harder and harder to hide his trail. “The file?”

“Hyungnim, I’m not sure that you want to see it.”

It was unlike Sanghyuk to sound so timid. Which meant that he was probably right, and Hongbin didn’t want to see whatever was in that file. But all the more reason that he needed to.

Hongbin held out a hand, demanding, and Sanghyuk sighed heavily and brought over his laptop. Hakyeon begrudgingly shifted out of his lap so that Hongbin could settle the computer on his knees instead, and leaned sleepily against Hongbin’s shoulder.

He noticed Wonshik and Taekwoon coming to hover curiously behind him, but Sanghyuk just sat down on the coffee table and started gnawing on one of his fingernails. He’d doubtless read the whole thing already.

_Major Lee Jaehwan,_ it said. His brother was decorated, and his confirmed kill count was scarily high, even to someone like Hongbin. He’d been exemplary in the Marines, had passed on to Special Ops after reaching the rank of First Lieutenant impossibly fast.

The document was long. It covered dozens of missions, both covert and not, that Jaehwan had been assigned to during his service. It took a while for Hongbin to even find the details of the mission to North Korea.

When he did, he wished he hadn’t.

Jaehwan had left everything – his entire identity – behind. He’d been given a new name, a new family, a new history, and had been sent to infiltrate Kim Jong Un’s inner circle by _‘any means necessary’._ Hongbin could only imagine what that had entailed, in spite of the clinical reports spread out in front of him.

_Seduced a distant relative of the supreme leader,_ one of Jaehwan’s coded reports had said.

Hongbin kept reading even though he felt like he shouldn’t, and proved himself right when Taekwoon made a noise like he’d been punched in the gut and had to grip the back of the chaise lounge in order to keep himself upright. That was about how Hongbin felt, too.

Hongbin slammed the laptop closed, but the damage had been done, and Taekwoon was already striding out of the room.

–

“You’re married?” Taekwoon asked, shoving unceremoniously into Jaehwan’s room.

Jaehwan sat up on the bed, looking soft and fresh from the shower, his hair still slightly damp. He swallowed and said, “Sanghyuk told you.”

Taekwoon stood in the middle of the room and couldn’t move. He didn’t know what to say. Jaehwan didn’t seem surprised that he had found out. He wasn’t even moving to defend himself. “Do you love her?” he found himself asking even though he knew it was the worst possible thing _to_ ask.

But Jaehwan just snorted loudly and asked, “Did she have a dick and about thirty pounds of solid muscle on me?” He shook his head and leaned back against the pillows. He’d been reading a book, Taekwoon realized, and it was still spread open on his lap. “It was part of the mission. The marriage wasn’t even legal.”

“Oh,” Taekwoon said. “So you’re not….”

“No,” Jaehwan agreed, and something in his face was...fond? “I’m not.”

Taekwoon took a deep breath and let it out very carefully. “We should...talk,” he said at last.

Jaehwan folded down the corner of the page he’d been on and set his book aside. “Yeah, we should,” he replied.

But Taekwoon didn’t know where to start, and so he just stood there staring. Jaehwan’s damp hair kept catching the light of the afternoon sun streaming in through the window. He was beautiful. He was always beautiful and Taekwoon always wanted him.

“Come here,” Jaehwan said after a moment, patting the bed beside him.

Taekwoon went, only just barely thinking to close the door first. He settled cross-legged on the bed in front of Jaehwan and then picked at the comforter, unwilling to meet Jaehwan’s eyes.

So Jaehwan found a place to start instead. “I want you,” he said, plain and simple the way he had been since the first day Taekwoon met him.

_Mark my words, Jung Taekwoon. Someday you’ll want me._

Taekwoon glanced up at him and then back down. Jaehwan’s face was too open, too trusting.

“I liked what we had before,” Jaehwan said, and quick enough that Taekwoon’s heart didn’t have a chance to sink he added, “but I like what we have now even better.” He took a moment, perhaps waiting for a response, perhaps just attempting to find the right words. “I don’t trust easily. Before you I...actually hadn’t let another man fuck me in a very long time.”

Taekwoon inhaled sharply and finally looked at Jaehwan properly.

Jaehwan met his eyes and smiled a little. “My wife didn’t mean anything to me other than a means to an end,” he said carefully, clearly picking around the subject as delicately as possible. “And Oh Sehun is the same. When the mission is over, I’ll have no reason to see him ever again.”

“And me?” Taekwoon asked, and wanted to hit himself for sounding so stupid and vulnerable.

“You, Jung Taekwoon, are far more than a means to an end,” Jaehwan said, and he reached out and bridged the slight gap between them, curling his fingers around Taekwoon’s. “I want you. I–” _love you,_ Taekwoon’s mind filled in for him, “–want more with you.”

Taekwoon swallowed and curled his fingers around Jaehwan’s in response. “Me too,” he admitted softly, and even that was too much weakness.

“God, we’re both so emotionally constipated,” Jaehwan said, laughing suddenly. His bright smile always sent a thrill through Taekwoon’s chest, the same warm feeling he got when he was cuddling his nephew or was greeted cheerfully by his mother’s dog.

“I don’t know how to be more,” he told Jaehwan. The last time he’d actually dated someone was in college, and he hadn’t been very good at it then either. He was much better at physical relationships than he was at emotional ones.

Jaehwan scooted forward until their knees were touching. “I think we start,” he said, smirking a challenge at Taekwoon, “with what we’ve been doing and then add to it slowly. For instance, I love it when you manhandle me and push me against walls and gag me because you can’t stand to listen to me talk anymore, but I also very much enjoy being pampered like you did this morning.”

Taekwoon shivered at the reminder. He fought for courage, sorted through his words until he came up with an appropriate response, and finally settled for, “I like pampering you. But I would also like to tie you to these bedposts and edge you until you cry.”

Jaehwan smiled at him, and he squeezed Taekwoon’s hand. “Funny,” he said. “I’ve had that same fantasy.”

Taekwoon blanched. “You want to tie me up?”

“No, idiot,” Jaehwan said, and seemed far too smug about being able to turn the tables on Taekwoon and call him that for once. “I want _you_ to tie _me_ up.”

“Oh,” Taekwoon said. “Good.”

“I also really enjoy giving head,” Jaehwan said, shifting forward again, trying to sneak into Taekwoon’s lap. Taekwoon finally caved and just pulled him forward by the hips, settling Jaehwan comfortably across his thighs. “How do you feel about wake-up blowjobs?”

Taekwoon’s dick was definitely interested. And his mind, when he realized what that would mean – sleeping in the same bed as Jaehwan, waking up to Jaehwan beside him every morning – was even more on board. “Possibly favorable,” he said anyway. “We might have to try it a few times for me to be sure.”

Jaehwan gave him a patented Jaehwan-smirk and leaned in for a long, slow kiss. “Oh, that can definitely be arranged,” he purred.

It was far more than Taekwoon had ever hoped for. And if he was reading things right, it was going to be even more still.

He could live with that.

–

“Do you think it’ll be okay?” Hakyeon asked softly. “Should we send Wonshik to make sure they don’t kill each other?”

Hongbin thought of Jaehwan saying _I don’t know what Taekwoon and I are_ and said, “No, I think they need to work this out on their own.”

Sanghyuk was still biting his nails, although he’d calmed down some when Hongbin hadn’t reacted violently to the second-hand explanation he’d gotten from Jaehwan. _He was upset even talking about it. I didn’t think it was my place._

Hongbin knew Sanghyuk well enough to know that if he’d thought the information relevant, he would have brought it to Hongbin’s attention right away. But there were more important things for them to be focusing on, and Jaehwan clearly had a handle on his mission without their interference.

“I need everything you have on RM and his inner circle,” Hongbin ordered. “If we want to end this quickly and with as little bloodshed as possible, we should strike them where it will hurt the most.”

They knew he was right, he could see. Sanghyuk gave a sarcastic little salute and slouched over his computer again, beginning to type rapidly.

Wonshik was shifting restlessly from foot to foot, staring out the window as though he’d spotted a threat, which was impossible. The walls were high, their security system was top-of-the-line, and they had an armed guard at the gate. If someone tried to breach the house’s defenses, they would know.

Hongbin called, “Wonshik-ah,” and saw him swivel immediately to face Hongbin. “Something on your mind?”

Wonshik shook his head too quickly. “Nope, just. I don’t know, I was just hoping–” He scrubbed a hand through his hair, making it all stand on end. “We’re unstable as it is,” he muttered. “How many assassination attempts has Hakyeon-hyung survived so far? Can we afford to be at war with BTS right now?”

“We don’t have a choice,” Hongbin told him. Hakyeon was tense against his side and Hongbin patted his knee reassuringly. “You’re right that the situation isn’t ideal, but we can’t let this insult stand. If we show any weakness now, you know as well as I do that things will only get worse.”

“I just,” Wonshik said again, and he whirled back to the window. “I wish there was another way. Why do we always have to be fighting other people? We were friendly with EXO once.”

Hongbin had known that Wonshik was a pacifist practically since he met him. Wonshik’s reasons for joining up anyway were his own, and Hongbin hadn’t pried beyond what was necessary to ascertain Wonshik’s loyalty. He was Hongbin’s man absolutely, but he was also a dreamer. He was always hoping for another way.

Hongbin rose and crossed the room to Wonshik, laid a hand on his shoulder and said again, “Wonshik-ah. If we want a better world we have to make it.”

Wonshik deflated on a slow exhale. “Of course, Oyabun,” he murmured.

Hongbin patted his shoulder and then returned to his seat on the chaise lounge and wrapped an arm around Hakyeon’s waist. “You’ll go on the widow run with Hwasa today, Ravi,” he said.

“Aren’t there more important things to worry about?” Wonshik asked, his eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.

“I need you on the widow run,” Hongbin said, giving Wonshik a meaningful look. “Go remind yourself why we do this, Wonshik. When you return, I’ll assume that you’re ready to help me end this war by any means necessary.”

_By any means necessary,_ like swearing his brother into the organization and sending him to talk his way into an enemy’s bed for information. Like taking the softest, gentlest man he knew and watching him harden with the horrors of their reality and the war that they were being forced to fight.

Maybe Hongbin also needed a reminder of why they did what they did.

–

“Don’t look so glum there, grumpy-pants,” Hwasa said with a teasing smile when Wonshik met up with her. “The widow run isn’t that bad.”

Wonshik stuttered over a non-answer and felt his face heat up. He’d never gotten the hang of talking to girls. Did they all have to be so pretty?

He actually liked the widow run. Most of the others thought it was a chore or just felt awkward doing it. Hongbin used it for minor punishments sometimes. But Wonshik actually enjoyed it and regularly volunteered to go. He couldn’t help that he was still thinking about how much shit had just hit the fan because of RM.

Hwasa patted his hand consolingly. “This is the part where you open the car door for me and try to act like a gentleman so you can get into my pants,” she informed him.

It surprised a laugh out of Wonshik, who did obligingly hold the door for her. “I don’t want into your pants,” he said, just to be sure.

“Then I’m not doing my job very well, am I?” Hwasa asked, tilting her head in a way that was familiar because of the number of times he’d seen it done by Jaehwan and certain other people. It was meant to be flirty, but Wonshik just laughed.

“Trust me,” he said, finding some ease because of how relaxed she was in his presence. “You’re doing it very well. I’m just not interested.”

She gave a little _hmph_ and settled back into her seat. “And here I thought there wasn’t a man alive that I couldn’t have wrapped around my little finger.”

Wonshik closed her door and rounded the car to get into his own seat before he answered. “You don’t have to manipulate me into doing things for you, Hwasa. You can just ask.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” she asked, and the genuine smile on her face was more breathtaking than all the flirtatious looks had been.

Wonshik started to drive and told her, “I guess you’ll have to find another way to entertain yourself.”

They fell into cheerful chatter as they drove, discussing the merits of different weight balances in throwing knives and comparing scars and other banal everyday things. She was still almost blindingly pretty, which made him nervous and awkward, but Wonshik could tell that she would be a good friend if he had a chance to spend some time with her. He might have to ask Hongbin to put them on the widow run together again in the future.

The first couple of stops were the usual, comforting in their normalcy. Wonshik understood almost immediately why Hongbin had sent him for something that was normally reserved for lower-ranking members when they were in times of crisis. Every time an older woman patted his hand and thanked him for visiting and told him that he reminded her of her son, his heart melted a little bit more.

The widow run hadn’t existed, at least not in its current form, under Old Man Park’s leadership. Back then, a check had been mailed to each family once a month, without even a letter or anything personal about it.

Hongbin had made it what it was, sent his underlings to each house with an envelope and a gift basket, ordered them to treat these people as their own family. _Their husbands, wives, children, or parents died in service to VIXX,_ he reminded them regularly. _We are all that they have left. We owe them this, at least._

Everything was going great until the last stop. Until Hwasa read off, “Lee, Unit 401,” and they traipsed up four flights of stairs and knocked on the door and it opened to reveal a young man – arched eyebrows, full lips, pale brown hair feathering soft around his face and neck. His eyes widened.

“Hi there!” Hwasa said, oblivious to the way Wonshik and the other man both stood frozen on opposite sides of the doorway. “We’re here for Mrs. Lee. I think she knew we were coming by today?”

It took a moment, but finally the man’s gaze locked onto Hwasa’s cheerful smile and he said, “Sorry. Yeah, Mom mentioned you were coming. I’m Taemin.”

Hwasa took the hand that he offered and giggled when he bowed over it and kissed the air just above her knuckles. “What a gentleman,” she said, good-natured teasing. She glanced at Wonshik. “You could stand to learn a thing or two from him, Ravi-oppa.”

Wonshik chuckled weakly. When Taemin held the door open for them he shuffled in behind Hwasa. As he paused to slip his shoes off, Taemin poked his side and mouthed, _Ravi?_

Wonshik shook his head, mouthed back, _Later,_ and thanked all that was holy that Taemin dropped it with only a brief pinched frown.

Hwasa was already charming Taemin’s mother. Apparently she’d been on the widow run a lot since she joined, because Mrs. Lee was chatting spiritedly with her like they’d known each other for years.

As soon as Wonshik came into sight, however, Mrs. Lee’s attention was all on him and she called, “Ravi! It’s been a while, kid. Come here, let me look at you.”

Wonshik was helpless to argue with her, so he went over and let her take both of his hands in hers, inspecting his face critically as though she could tell whether he’d been taking proper care of himself just from that.

“You should sleep more,” she told him. “Your eyebags are getting as large as my purse.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he murmured, and ignored Taemin’s narrowed eyes over her shoulder.

She turned and regarded all three of them for a moment and then said, “Do you want tea? I’m going to make tea.”

Hwasa offered to help. They disappeared together into the kitchen, almost as though it had been orchestrated that way. Wonshik swallowed hard.

“You know my mother,” Taemin hissed, voice so low Wonshik could hardly make it out.

He nodded dumbly. “Of course I do. She’s one of ours.”

“She’s not one of–” Taemin cut himself off and whirled away. His hands came up to cover his face and his shoulders started to shake.

Wonshik took a tentative step forward and laid a hand on Taemin’s back. The muscles jumped beneath his touch and for a moment he thought that Taemin would shake him off, but instead he turned and buried himself in Wonshik’s arms.

“Idiot,” he muttered.

Wonshik’s hands came to rest on Taemin’s shoulder blades and he huffed half a laugh into Taemin’s soft hair. “Sorry,” he said. “I should have told you.”

“I thought it was safer if we didn’t know,” Taemin retorted.

“Not this,” Wonshik murmured. “I should never have lied to you about this.”

Taemin sighed heavily and pressed his cheek into Wonshik’s shoulder. They were so close in height – only a few centimeters difference – but Taemin was so slight, wiry dancer’s build nearly enveloped in the thick muscle Wonshik had developed while training under Taekwoon.

“Is this why you couldn’t come home?” Taemin asked after a moment.

Wonshik winced, nuzzled against Taemin’s hair to calm himself and admitted, “No. It’s...something else.”

“Something you can’t tell us anything about,” Taemin guessed, sounding resigned. It was a tone that Wonshik was far too familiar with, coming from Taemin. It made his chest ache.

“Yeah,” he said. “Sorry.”

Taemin didn’t respond to the apology, just said, “He’s gonna be jealous that I got to see you.”

Wonshik huffed another little laugh and squeezed Taemin tight. “Give him a hug for me, then,” he said. “And tell him I’ll come home as soon as I can.”

“A car salesman,” Taemin muttered. “I could have fallen in love with a car salesman. Or another dancer, even though we’re all divas and we would clash horribly and–”

Wonshik kissed him. It was probably stupid, standing in Taemin’s mother’s living room and kissing openly, but Wonshik had _missed_ him, missed _them,_ and if he wasn’t going to get to see Taemin again for who knew how long, he would take everything that he could and store it away for that time when he would be utterly alone.

The kiss didn’t last long before Taemin pulled away, put space between them and wiped all remnant of what they’d done from his mouth. He turned to his mother and Hwasa with a smile as they re-entered the room, and it was like nothing had ever happened.

But Wonshik knew, and he saved the moment in his heart with all the thousand other moments that got him through the hard times.

They would survive this. They had survived worse.

–

Jaehwan was enjoying the afterglow, naked on his soft cotton sheets with Taekwoon draped half across him, his head pillowed on Jaehwan’s chest. It was an unfamiliar position for the two of them to be in and by all rights it should have been uncomfortable, especially since they were both still sweaty and covered in jizz. But he was far too sated and content to let any of those minor details bother him.

It wasn’t often that he could just relax, even after having sex.

“We should do that for the rest of forever,” he mumbled, mostly nonsensically.

When Taekwoon tensed up there was a painful moment in which Jaehwan thought he’d ruined everything, but just as quickly he relaxed again and scraped his teeth half-heartedly over Jaehwan’s nipple, which was conveniently right in front of his face.

Jaehwan gasped from oversensitivity.

“We would die, idiot,” Taekwoon muttered, but it wasn’t even half as derisive as usual.

With an overly-dramatic sigh, Jaehwan acquiesced, “You’re probably right. It would be a fun way to go, though.”

Taekwoon poked at the drying cum on Jaehwan’s stomach and said, “I’d rather live.”

“Spoilsport,” Jaehwan whined, but his heart wasn’t in it. His eyelids were drooping lower and lower and he was thinking that a nap sounded like an awfully good idea.

Something started buzzing near the headboard.

“Your phone,” Taekwoon mumbled helpfully, clinging more tightly to Jaehwan’s waist.

Fortunately the phone was close enough that Jaehwan was able to reach it without moving much, but when he saw who was calling his throat attempted to close up and he rasped, “It’s Sehun.”

Taekwoon made a little unhappy noise, the likes of which Jaehwan had never heard come from his mouth before, and then subsided, hiding his face against Jaehwan’s skin.

Jaehwan swiped to answer and put the phone to his ear. “Sehun!” he said, sounding much more cheerful than he felt. “Did you miss me already?”

Sehun’s snorting laughter over the line. “So much,” he said, sarcasm thick in his voice.

“I knew you liked me,” Jaehwan teased. He felt Taekwoon go still against him and dropped his free hand to his hair and started stroking absentmindedly.

“Anyway, Hyung,” Sehun said, changing the subject abruptly. “I’m actually calling because I seem to have acquired tickets to a musical for tonight and I don’t know anyone else who would be able to go with me on such short notice.”

Jaehwan chuckled, purposefully dropping his voice into the register that always made Sehun shiver. Against him, a minute tremor went through Taekwoon. “And you remembered how much I love musicals. This wouldn’t happen to be the one I mentioned the other night at dinner, the one I wanted to see but the tickets were completely sold out months ago, would it?”

He could almost _hear_ Sehun blushing. “It might be,” he muttered.

“You’re so cute, Sehun-ah,” Jaehwan cooed. Abruptly, there was a hand around his dick. Taekwoon stroked it roughly once and Jaehwan hissed loudly.

“You okay, Hyung?” Sehun asked, voice pitched somewhere between curious and concerned.

Jaehwan picked up Taekwoon’s hand, set it back on his waist where it was safe, and held it there firmly. “Yeah, Hun, everything’s fine. Just stubbed my toe. Hurt like a bitch.” The strain in his voice didn’t have to be faked.

Sehun hummed softly but let it go. “So can you come?” he asked.

“I would love to go to the theater with you, Sehun,” he murmured, dropping his voice low again. “Where and when?”

As soon as he’d gotten the details and finished the call with Sehun, he punched Taekwoon in the shoulder. Taekwoon barely flinched.

“Asshole,” Jaehwan muttered, trying to shove Taekwoon off him so he could get out of the bed.

Taekwoon _pouted_ and clung harder. “I don’t like it when you flirt with him.”

“So don’t _listen,”_ Jaehwan countered. He resorted to pinching Taekwoon until he let go, and then scooted off the bed and headed for the shower. For unknown reasons, Taekwoon followed him.

“Don’t meet him,” Taekwoon said, leaning against the bathroom counter and watching Jaehwan start the shower and then check his face for stubble while he waited for the water to heat up.

Jaehwan turned to regard Taekwoon tiredly. “This is my job, Taekwoon.”

“I know,” Taekwoon said. “Just.” He didn’t finish his sentence, and instead stood there staring at Jaehwan.

Jaehwan sighed heavily and stepped into Taekwoon’s space. He got arms around him at once and bit down on Taekwoon’s shoulder just because he could. There was no rule against marking _Taekwoon_ up. “Just a means to an end,” he reminded them both quietly. “As soon as I get the information we need I’ll never have to see him again.”

Taekwoon growled lowly and worried Jaehwan’s earlobe with his teeth for a moment. “Fine,” he muttered at last. He got two big handfuls of Jaehwan’s ass and squeezed, and then started kissing his way down Jaehwan’s neck.

Jaehwan gasped and shuddered. “Stop,” he whined, sounding like he wanted anything but. “We literally just fucked and I have to get ready.”

“I want you to remember this while you’re with him,” Taekwoon said, and bit lightly at Jaehwan’s throat.

“That is such a bad idea,” Jaehwan protested, but he melted into Taekwoon’s touch, his dick already twitching reluctantly back to life. If he came again he wouldn’t be able to get it up for Sehun later, and as much as he hated that, he finally pushed Taekwoon away and stepped back, breathing hard. “I have to get ready,” he said again.

Taekwoon huffed, but he tipped Jaehwan’s chin up with two fingers and pressed a slow, lingering kiss to his lips.

He left the bathroom without another word, leaving Jaehwan to worry that he’d fucked everything up yet again.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is extra long to make up for missing last week. I'll try to get next week's update done on time - hell week is nearly over and things should settle down after tomorrow, so hopefully I'll be able to get some work done this weekend.
> 
> Thanks for your patience and your support, everyone! It means a lot.

 

Jaehwan was showered, dressed, and freshly shaven, wearing a tailored suit and enough jewelry to buy a small house. He expected to slip out quietly, to take the car that Hongbin had been loaning to him for the last few weeks and meet Sehun at the theater without anyone realizing that he’d gone.

It might have been easier that way.

Instead, Taekwoon was waiting for him in the foyer, and he pressed a set of keys into Jaehwan’s hand. His face didn’t change in any discernible way, but somehow Jaehwan felt as though Taekwoon was smiling at him.

“You’re sure?” he asked Taekwoon, his voice sounding too loud in the open space even though he was speaking barely above a whisper.

Taekwoon nodded once and closed Jaehwan’s fingers more tightly around the keys. “Finish this,” he said.

Jaehwan wanted to kiss him. He wanted to tear off all the expensive clothes that he was wearing and let Taekwoon have his way with him right there. Instead, he dropped a chaste peck to Taekwoon’s cheek and told him, “Thank you.”

He got another nod, and Taekwoon’s fingers brushing the nape of his neck for just a moment. He didn’t say anything more.

Jaehwan let himself linger – drinking in the sight of Taekwoon’s face, the feel of Taekwoon’s skin against his – for just a bit longer, and then he pulled away and took a bracing breath. “I’ll see you later,” he promised.

Taekwoon didn’t smile at him, but there was a little twitch at the corner of his mouth like perhaps he wanted to, and so Jaehwan did it for him, smiling twice as bright to make up for Taekwoon’s lack.

“I’ll see you later,” he said again, and then he slipped out the door before Taekwoon’s beautiful face and the softness of his hair and the quiet tenor of his voice could lure him into staying.

The leather steering wheel beneath his hands felt like comfort, like protection. The car’s bucket seat cradled him and he stepped a little harder on the gas just to hear the engine roar. He understood completely why Taekwoon loved his car so much. Jaehwan imagined Taekwoon fucking him in it and a little shiver went down his spine.

He got to the theater far too soon.

Sehun was waiting for him just inside the lobby, and he greeted Jaehwan by pulling him into his arms and brushing a kiss across his cheekbone. “I missed you, Hyung,” he said, and it sounded so genuine and fond that Jaehwan almost felt guilty for deceiving him.

He patted Sehun’s back and told him, “Missed you too, Hun.”

The show wouldn’t start for an hour. They went and got drinks from the bar, and stood chatting amiably about stock prices and other musicals they’d seen and all the other things that Jaehwan was supposed to be interested in as a corporate heir. He was reading a new book about effective management practices. Sehun thought it was great that he was endeavoring to improve his abilities for the company when his father hadn’t even handed it over to him yet.

The house doors opened and they went to find their seats. Sehun apologized that they weren’t in the VIP box, but General Admission was all he’d been able to get on short notice, even with his connections. Jaehwan assured him it was fine, since he hadn’t thought he’d be able to go at all.

He truly had wanted to see the show, and as the house lights went down and they settled side by side, he thought he might actually have a good time. Even when Sehun’s hand curled around his on the armrest he didn’t have more than a passing thought towards discomfort. He had done much worse than hold another man’s hand.

But as the conductor raised his baton and the orchestra started to play, a small, niggling feeling prickled at the back of Jaehwan’s neck. He was out of practice, it seemed, because it took him several moments too long to place the sensation.

His instincts were shouting that there was someone watching him.

He shifted casually under the guise of wrapping an arm around Sehun and glanced briefly around the room. Every set of eyes was focused on the actors beginning to emerge from behind the curtain, the show that was happening in front of them. Every set, that is, except one.

There was a man standing by an exit door just behind and to the left of Jaehwan. He wasn’t even being especially subtle about the fact that he was watching them, his gaze zeroed in on Jaehwan and the arm he had around Sehun’s shoulders.

 _Shit._ He may have inadvertently put Sehun in danger, because something told him that the man watching them was not one of Suho’s. Even if Suho did have someone following them, Jaehwan had a feeling he’d be a far cry subtler than this.

Sehun didn’t seem to have noticed that anything was amiss, though, and Jaehwan had to honestly wonder whether he was really geondal – whether he’d been trained for situations like this, and why he was allowed out on his own if he hadn’t.

Jaehwan sat in tense silence, watching their watcher out of the corner of his eye, and Sehun didn’t seem to notice that, either, his attention entirely on the musical.

When intermission hit and the house lights came back up, Jaehwan stood up with them. Sehun glanced at him in question but Jaehwan just muttered, “Restroom,” and slipped out through the crowd.

He did go down the hall towards the bathrooms, but he kept walking until he found an exit, keeping his head high and not looking behind him. The side exit led into an alley, caged in by the foreboding cement walls of tall buildings on either side. There was a smoking area to his left, a couple of rusting benches and an ashtray on a stand.

To his right was a dumpster, and that was where he headed, just around the corner of it so that when his watcher followed with a gun drawn, Jaehwan was able to neatly disarm him, stun him with three sharp punches in vulnerable places, and swing around to press him against the cement wall out of sight of the door.

He held the gun to the man’s temple and demanded, “Who are you working for?”

The man said nothing, thin lips pressing into an even thinner line. By the set of his jaw and the furrow of his bushy eyebrows, it was fairly obvious that he would die before he talked.

Jaehwan backhanded him across the face with his fist wrapped around the butt of the gun, just to be sure, shook the man while he was still reeling and growled out, “Why did you come after me?”

His mouth pulled into a grimace on one side, the other already swelling up from Jaehwan’s blow, but he stayed silent.

With a huff, disappointed but not surprised, Jaehwan kneed him in the groin.

He couldn’t exactly let the man go, even if he didn’t know who he was working for. Jaehwan could guess well enough, anyway, and the fact was that the man had come after him with a silenced gun and tried to kill him.

So Jaehwan shot him in the temple, at an angle the man could have managed himself. And then he calmly pulled a silk handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his fingerprints from the weapon. He returned it to the dead man, positioning it in the corpse’s limp hand as though he really had shot himself.

Before the pool of blood could reach Jaehwan’s Italian leather shoes, he rounded the dumpster and made his way back inside, stopping at the restroom like he’d said he would so that he would smell like the theater’s soap and to ensure that no blood had splattered on him.

He slipped back into his seat beside Sehun just moments before the house lights went down again.

“You were gone a long time,” Sehun murmured, curling himself into Jaehwan’s side.

“Sorry,” Jaehwan replied, wrapping his arm snug around Sehun’s broad shoulders. “Ran into someone I know.”

–

He had to finish it.

“Thanks for taking me to that show tonight. You must have some connections, to have gotten us those tickets,” Jaehwan murmured, stroking a slow path up and down Sehun’s arm as they lay together in the aftermath of a hard fuck. Sehun had begged him to stay the night, whined plaintively that Jaehwan always left so soon afterwards. He wasn’t sure he could risk sleeping in front of Sehun, who might discover his scars if he did.

He wasn’t sure he could risk saying no to him again.

“Mm,” Sehun hummed, deep and sleepy the way he always got after sex. “Just work connections. You know how it is.”

“You know,” Jaehwan said, trying to sound nonchalant as his heart pounded in his throat. He took the chance. “I don’t think you’ve ever told me what you do.”

When Sehun lifted his head from Jaehwan’s chest to look at him, his eyes were more lucid than Jaehwan had expected. “Haven’t I?” he asked, sounding as forcedly casual as Jaehwan felt. He let out a soft chuff of laughter. It was so subtly off that most people wouldn’t even have caught it.

Jaehwan contorted his face into a sheepish grin. “That or I forgot. God, sorry, you totally told me, didn’t you?”

“No.” Sehun shook his head and dropped a kiss to Jaehwan’s shoulder, fingers playing idly with the collar of Jaehwan’s open shirt. “No, I don’t think I ever said.”

“Oh good,” Jaehwan sighed, slumping back as though in relief. “Here I thought I was just being a terrible boyfriend.”

Sehun froze, fingers pinched tight around starched fabric. “Boyfriend?”

“Sorry,” Jaehwan murmured, his hand trailing up Sehun’s side and tracing the spaces between his ribs. “I should have asked instead of just assuming.”

Sehun squirmed like he was ticklish but said, “No, I...I just wasn’t expecting it. We’ve only been seeing each other for a few months.”

“Is it too early?” Jaehwan asked, not sure which answer he’d rather receive even as he said it.

“No,” Sehun repeated, a smile curling his lips as he stretched up to kiss Jaehwan. “It’s definitely not too early.”

Jaehwan pulled an answering smile from somewhere and felt his mouth say, “Good.”

Sehun dropped his head back onto Jaehwan’s chest and said, “It’s probably only fair, then, to tell you the truth.” He took a deep breath, fiddled with one of Jaehwan’s shirt buttons, let the air back out. “Hyung, I’m _geondal.”_

Jaehwan could hear it, the echo of Hongbin saying that to him just a few months before. _Hyung, we’re geondal,_ like that would change anything. Like that would make Jaehwan leave.

He gave Sehun the only response that he could, the response that had come out of him without a second thought when he heard those words from Hongbin.

“Well, that explains a lot.”

He felt Sehun hide a smile against his chest. “You’re not mad?”

“Why would I be?” Jaehwan asked, lilting his inflection to sound as bewildered as possible.

Sehun huffed. He poked Jaehwan in the side and asked, “You’re not afraid I’m going to get you killed?” He paused a moment and then added thoughtfully, “Or _have_ you killed?”

Jaehwan smirked down at him even though Sehun didn’t bother to look up. “Please,” he said, scoffing, “I’m much too good in bed for that.”

He got full-blown laughter in response, and not for the first time Jaehwan thought that if Oh Sehun weren’t his enemy, they would probably be very good friends.

–

Jaehwan laid awake in a luxury hotel bed with only the shifting light of the city on the ceiling and his own thoughts to keep him company. He’d let Sehun fall asleep plastered across his chest, snoring softly and leaving a growing patch of drool on the front of Jaehwan’s million-won shirt.

It was his own fault for wearing it to bed, but it wasn’t like he could take it off.

On the street below, he heard an emergency vehicle go by, its sirens blaring. He couldn’t see the flashing lights from so far up, but he could imagine them – red blue red blue red blue until they faded together into magenta in front of his unfocused eyes.

He could sneak out, shift Sehun gently off of him and creep out of the room, go home to Taekwoon who might or might not let Jaehwan crawl into his bed and curl up against his side.

He couldn’t risk leaving. Sehun had given him a big confession tonight, had offered up more information than Jaehwan had even dared to hope for. He couldn’t let all his work go to waste.

It was the home stretch; it had to be. Now that Sehun had confessed to being geondal it was only a matter of time before he let slip what the job was that his boss had been riding him so hard over.

 _Finish this,_ Taekwoon had said.

Jaehwan intended to.

–

“They don’t have any weaknesses,” Sanghyuk insisted, practically slamming an ipad down on top of Hongbin’s desk.

Hongbin glared at him for the mistreatment of his furniture and said, “That’s impossible. Everyone has weaknesses.”

“Yeah, well,” Sanghyuk muttered, and picked the ipad back up to swipe moodily at its surface. “I can’t find any, so.”

“That doesn’t mean they’re not there,” Hongbin said, and winced when Sanghyuk bristled like a cat at the offense. He was quick to add, “It just means you haven’t exhausted your resources yet. What about Sungjae?”

Sanghyuk blew out a breath that rustled his floppy bangs – his hair was unstyled and he was still in his pajamas, even though it was nearing noon; it would be cute if he didn’t act like such a piece of shit sometimes. “You know Sungjae doesn’t like to get in the middle of these things, Hyung.”

“I know,” Hongbin agreed. He studied his hands, twirled a ring around his finger as he said, “But what choice do we have? This time they were just harassing a few business owners and two of ours were killed defending them. But we put four or five of RM’s in the ground too, and that means the next time they cross the boundary they’re going to be out for blood.”

Sanghyuk nodded and leaned back, and he was quiet for a while. The dark circles under his eyes had grown, and there was a greasy sheen on his forehead that suggested that he hadn’t showered in a couple of days. There was a price to being Hongbin’s spymaster.

At long last, Sanghyuk said, “I’ll talk to Sungjae. But if he doesn’t want to get involved I’m not going to make him.”

“We may not have a choice,” Hongbin said, and tried to ignore the deep frown lines that carved into Sanghyuk’s young face. “We’ll protect him, if it comes to that. I swear it, Hyuk.”

“I hate this,” Sanghyuk informed him, and then he got up and left the study without waiting to be dismissed.

In the quiet aftermath of Sanghyuk’s exit, Hongbin turned to the side and watched the morning sunlight filter, fractured, through the stained glass window. “I do too,” he muttered, and wished it wasn’t such a bad idea for him to drown himself in an entire bottle of scotch just to forget this goddamn shitfest for a while.

–

As soon as Sanghyuk walked into the tiny-ass rooftop apartment, Sungjae leapt from his chair and screamed, “My love! You’ve returned at last!” and tried to tackle-hug Sanghyuk.

Sanghyuk prevented this assault to his person with a carefully-aimed palm to the face that left Sungjae spluttering. “Be serious for two seconds of your goddamn life,” he deadpanned, and then stole Sungjae’s desk chair (the only good one in the entire apartment).

By the time he’d recovered, there wasn’t much Sungjae could do to complain except making a pathetic noise and pouting, so he fell into the rickety wooden dining chair that he’d always said he was going to get a table to go with but never had. It still sat in the middle of the room for reasons that Sanghyuk had never been able to parse, other than possibly because that was the only location where theoretically a table would fit. If it was a small one.

Normally Sanghyuk would make fun of him for it, or for something else. Their friendship had always been half hidden beneath antagonism, weird flirting, and Sanghyuk hitting Sungjae in vulnerable places when he got too handsy. But for once, Sanghyuk just sat, hands dangling between his spread knees.

“So what can I do for you, Sanghyuk?” Sungjae asked, putting his game face on finally when he saw how grim Sanghyuk looked.

Sanghyuk sighed. He thought about scrubbing a hand through his hair but decided it wasn’t worth the effort – and anyway, his hand would end up coated with about four days’ worth of grease because he hadn’t bothered to shower in a while. “I need information. About BTS.”

Sungjae inhaled, nostrils flaring as he eyed Sanghyuk. “I don’t suppose you’re going to ask me what RM’s favorite food is so you can surprise him with a special dinner.”

It wasn’t a question, serious or otherwise, but Sanghyuk shook his head anyway. He leaned back in the chair and stared up at the mildew on the ceiling and wondered whether Sungjae ever bothered to clean. Probably too busy caring for his precious plants, he decided. “What can you tell me about his lover?”

“Jimin?” Sungjae asked. His voice cracked on the second syllable. “He’s a civilian. He’s the only one of them who doesn’t have a codename. You’re not seriously planning on targeting him, are you?”

 _“I’m_ not planning anything,” Sanghyuk said. Looking at the mildew was making him feel sick so he turned back to Sungjae instead. He looked horrified – his mouth agape, his eyes wide and betrayed. Sanghyuk decided that studying his own hands was safer. “A week ago, half a dozen good people died, and RM’s were the first to cross territory lines. Everyone who’s ever been associated with us is a target now. We don’t have the luxury of being _moral_ about this.”

“So you came to me.” Sungjae’s voice was so hard, angrier than Sanghyuk had ever heard it because...he’d never heard Sungjae angry. But sitting there glaring Sanghyuk down, his eyes like blades and his voice diamond-sharp, he was definitely angry. “You put me in danger knowing how I feel about this because...what? _Hongbin_ told you to? Do you ever fucking think for yourself anymore, Sanghyuk? Or do you just toddle around behind Hongbin like the good little duckling you are and carry out his orders without an ounce of remorse because _you don’t have the luxury_ of doing otherwise?”

Sanghyuk stared at his hands. He picked a hangnail and didn’t respond.

Sungjae huffed, probably irritated that Sanghyuk wouldn’t even look at him. “You know I’m friends with V, too. If he finds out that I helped you take down his organization he’ll never speak to me again. Hell, he might just kill me.”

A breath rattled through Sanghyuk’s chest, possibly the first one in a while. “Hongbin is willing to offer you protection, if it comes to that,” he whispered.

 _“I don’t want his protection!”_ Sungjae shouted, rising to his feet. His chair flew across the room and one of the legs broke off as it made contact with the wall, but Sanghyuk didn’t know whether he’d thrown it or just kicked it or if the force of his anger had made it fly away from him of its own accord somehow.

Sanghyuk stared at the splintered remains of the chair that Sungjae had always meant to get a dining table to go with. He’d never even had a second chair. Even with a dining table, he imagined that dinners alone would be pretty depressing.

Sungjae walked slowly over and stopped with his knees knocking against Sanghyuk’s. “I don’t want anything from Hongbin,” he said, and all the fight seemed to have drained out of him, leaving his voice a whisper of what it was. When Sanghyuk looked up and up at him, standing above him, his face was scrunched up and his throat was bobbing like he was trying to swallow tears. “Except you.”

“I can’t give you what you want,” Sanghyuk said, gesturing vaguely at Sungjae’s _other rig,_ the one that Sanghyuk didn’t think too much about because he just didn’t...he wasn’t….

“Bullshit,” Sungjae muttered, and one of his hands came up to rest on Sanghyuk’s head, long fingers lacing through his hair. “All I ever wanted was you.”

Sanghyuk tried to snort derisively but it came out wet and disgusting. He hadn’t even realized how close he was to crying. He shut the conversation down before they could rehash old arguments, asked, “Are you going to help me, or do I have to go back and tell Hongbin that I’ve failed and doom us to a months-long turf war that’ll tear through our ranks and probably put half of our friends in the ground?”

Sungjae made a wounded noise, but his hand didn’t leave Sanghyuk’s hair. “That’s low,” he said. “Here I am trying to confess my love to you and you’re changing the subject?”

“I’m not having this conversation again, Sungjae. Not now,” Sanghyuk said, knowing it was futile even as he said it. How many times had it been? Somehow he’d lost track of what the thing between them actually was.

“Then when?” Sungjae asked, starting to sift his fingers through the greasy mop on Sanghyuk’s head. “When are you going to stop shutting me down for long enough for us to actually discuss this?”

Sanghyuk batted his hand away and stood, putting some space between them. He needed air. He needed to not deal with his fucking _feelings_ when every second that he wasted on stupid shit like emotions and failed research and _showers,_ one of his own could be dying. “I’ll never have sex with you,” he said, plain and cutting. He flapped his hand again at Sungjae’s elaborate rig. “You would never have reason to use _that_ ever again. We _want different things.”_

Sungjae watched until he was done flailing, unusually still and silent for his normally flamboyant self. “I think you’re underestimating just how much I would give up for you,” he murmured.

“I don’t want you to give up anything for me!” Sanghyuk screeched, on the verge of tearing his own hair out. Sungjae’s fingers still hovered in the air where his head had been, shining with grease. He’d always been there when Sanghyuk needed him, had always listened and had never judged and hardly anything could faze him. He was ever-cheerful, a bright spot no matter how dark Sanghyuk’s world got. Which is why he added, “Not even the neutrality you cling to so desperately. I shouldn’t have come here. Sorry, I should just go.”

He turned for the door, and was already reaching for the handle when Sungjae spoke up behind him.

“Jimin is in an elite dance troupe. He and Lee Taemin were co-leads in their last show, a few months ago. He’s just a regular guy.”

Sanghyuk’s breath hitched and his fingers shook as he finished gripping the handle and pulled the door open. He nodded jerkily without looking back and murmured, “Thanks, Sungjae.”

Sungjae made a noncommittal noise and then Sanghyuk heard him plunking back down into the padded leather of his desk chair just before the door slammed shut behind him.

He stood on the rooftop and inhaled the scent of growing things for just a moment or two before he descended the stairs, got back in his car, and drove home.

Sanghyuk didn’t get involved in other people’s business if he could help it, and he only gave Hongbin the information that he deemed relevant. He’d hoped to god that this particular tidbit would never _become_ relevant, but he knew he’d been deluding himself. It had to come out in the open at some point.

It was time to have a talk with Wonshik.

–

Jaehwan went to give Hongbin his report as soon as he got home. He’d missed family breakfast in favor of lounging in bed with Sehun and feeding each other tidbits off the trays that room service had brought them, which he would much rather have been doing with Taekwoon. He’d only gotten away at all because Sehun had sighed and told him, “I have to go check in with the boss. But next time...maybe you can come to my apartment?”

Jaehwan had agreed because there was a chance that he could stumble upon something of use in Sehun’s home, and then they’d taken separate showers and put their day-old suits back on and gone home.

He knocked smartly on the door of Hongbin’s study and then announced, “It’s me, little brother. Are you busy?”

He could almost _hear_ Hongbin’s eye-roll, but in any case he called, “Just come in, Hyung,” so Jaehwan let himself in.

Hongbin was staring at the ornate stained-glass window on the southwest side of the room, and the corners of his eyes were pinched. It was the same look he used to get in school, right before a big exam.

“Something wrong?” Jaehwan asked. He sat down in one of the uncomfortable chairs in front of Hongbin’s stupid mahogany desk and slung one leg over the arm of the chair just to see the pinched look of distaste that always contorted Hongbin’s face when he did it.

Except Hongbin didn’t even bother turning to look at him, which rather ruined the effect.

It was quiet for a while, Hongbin clearly still lost in his thoughts and Jaehwan unwilling to be the first to speak again. If Hongbin didn’t want to talk to him about it, god knew Jaehwan wasn’t going to force him. They’d never been close enough for that.

Finally Hongbin turned away from the window and asked, “Was there something you needed, Hyung?”

“I thought you should know that I made progress with Oh Sehun,” Jaehwan said, rolling his head back against the chair and staring at the high bookshelf behind Hongbin. “He confessed to being geondal last night.”

“You already knew that,” Hongbin said, voice flat. Jaehwan thought maybe unimpressed, but a glance at Hongbin’s face suggested that it was more likely he was just tired. There’d been half a dozen altercations with RM’s people already in the last week, small skirmishes that would only get bigger the longer they went on. They had to find a way to end things, and Jaehwan hoped to god that that would happen sooner rather than later.

But he couldn’t say any of that to Hongbin, so instead he settled for, “But he didn’t know that I knew that. I’m getting closer, I swear. He invited me to his house, too.”

Hongbin muttered, “Good,” but he sounded like he thought it was anything but. Jaehwan didn’t know how Hongbin felt about sending his brother in to fuck the enemy, but he couldn’t imagine the answer was _good_ no matter how shitty a relationship they had. “Is that all you came to tell me?”

“No,” Jaehwan said, because of course Hongbin would have guessed. He wouldn’t have sought Hongbin out for a meeting just for that. “I killed a man last night.”

Hongbin’s eyes jumped up just as Jaehwan’s slid down, and their gazes locked for a moment. “You did what?”

“There was a man at the theater. He was watching us, and when I slipped out a side entrance he followed with a silenced handgun and tried to kill me.” He waved a hand as though to dismiss Hongbin’s narrow-eyed concern. “I don’t think he was one of RM’s – or one of Suho’s, for that matter. I didn’t have much time to try and get anything out of him, but he was stubborn. Willing to die rather than give up his employer.”

He could tell from the way Hongbin’s shoulders curled in, his fingers lacing together, that Hongbin understood what he was implying. If the would-be assassin wasn’t geondal, there was really only one other thing he could be.

“You think he was one of the same ones they sent after you a few months ago?” Hongbin asked.

Jaehwan shrugged. “Hard to say, but it’s likely. Not like sneaking their people into the South is exactly easy. I’m just surprised it took them so long to find me again.”

“Maybe they were just waiting for a good opportunity. They were too hasty before, made too many mistakes,” Hongbin mused, looking down at his hands and running his thumb over a ring, soft and rhythmic like it was an unconscious habit. “Do you think they’ll stop, since you killed him?”

“I think it’s more likely they’ll double their effort,” Jaehwan admitted.

Hongbin sighed heavily and muttered, “I was afraid you’d say that.”

Jaehwan quirked an eyebrow at him. “What, you’re not going to order me to abandon my mission and stay inside the house where I’ll be safe?”

“Would you listen?” Hongbin asked, and when Jaehwan’s eyebrow just climbed higher he said, “I didn’t think so. You were right before, anyway. Your mission is important and we won’t get another shot, not in time. And clearly you don’t need protection, so.”

The triumphant smirk was impossible to suppress. “I’ll just take my leave then,” he said, rising. “I’m sure you have very important things to do, Oyabun, and I would hate to keep you from them.”

“Hyung,” Hongbin interrupted. He looked up at Jaehwan, up and up like when they were still kids, and the look on his face was one that Jaehwan hadn’t seen since Hongbin was five and got separated from Jaehwan and the nanny at the aquarium. “Take care of yourself, okay? I want all my people to survive this.”

Jaehwan swallowed and then let a soft smile spread his lips. He didn’t reach for Hongbin, didn’t go wrap him in a hug because their relationship had never been like that. Instead he said, “Don’t worry about me, Hongbin. I’m a lot tougher than I look.”

Hongbin said, “Yeah,” and then nothing else, and Jaehwan took that as his cue to go.

He slunk upstairs. Trying to prevent his Italian leather shoes from making noise on the hardwood was an exercise in futility, but he did it anyway just for the practice. Subterfuge was an art – one that he’d been well-versed in, at one point in his life.

When he pushed the bedroom door soundlessly open, Taekwoon looked up without flinching. His hand paused though, cloth stilling on knife as his eyes fell on the rumpled lines of Jaehwan’s tailored suit. “You’re back,” he said without inflection.

It was almost as though they’d stepped back in time a few months, back to when Jaehwan would have swept into the room like a storm, single-mindedly pushing his way into Taekwoon’s life in any way that he might be accepted.

But instead of that he stepped quietly into the room and closed the door gently behind him. He toed the Italian leather off of his feet (even though that was the worst way to remove such expensive shoes) and shrugged out of his suit jacket. By the time he’d slung it over the back of Taekwoon’s utilitarian desk chair and turned his attention to his cufflinks, Taekwoon was behind him.

He reached around Jaehwan and loosened his tie, tugging it off over his head and tossing it on the surface of the desk with little care before moving on to his shirt buttons.

Jaehwan tutted at him and set his cufflinks aside. He picked up the tie, undoing the knot and smoothing the rumpled fabric, folding it carefully before setting it down again.

Taekwoon kissed the back of his neck, fluttery and soft. It made something in Jaehwan melt. His shirt was fully open and being tugged out of his pants, and then Taekwoon’s hands went for his belt.

He supposed it would be cheesy to say _I missed you,_ but Jaehwan felt as though he should say _something._ “He’s not half as good as you are,” he found himself saying, and hoped that Taekwoon didn’t kill him for it. “I shove other people around for a living. I just want someone to shove _me_ around for once.”

“Oh?” Taekwoon murmured. He’d just managed to get Jaehwan’s belt open when he suddenly spun them, shoving Jaehwan face-first against the wall.

Jaehwan barely managed to get a hand up to protect his face before his beautiful nose smashed against the equally beautiful wood paneling. He hissed, “Careful,” but it was half-hearted at best. The rest of him was stuck in the thrill of being held against the wall by Taekwoon’s muscular bulk. Fuck, he’d missed that.

Taekwoon thrust his hips sharply and Jaehwan could feel the line of his cock against his ass. He ground back on it, panting when Taekwoon shifted so that it was nestled between his butt cheeks, all soft and comfy in contrast to the way Taekwoon’s hands took hold of his wrists and pinned them to the wall. Like Jaehwan was weak and helpless, like he couldn’t get away even if he wanted to.

 _“Fuck,”_ Jaehwan hissed out loud. He tested Taekwoon’s grip and found it unyielding, and didn’t that just make the blood rush south all the faster. “You’re awfully hard already,” he teased, to distract himself from doing something embarrassing, like coming just from being manhandled. “What were you doing with those knives before I came in, Taekwoon?”

Taekwoon’s breath hitched at the question and Jaehwan laughed.

“You’ve thought about using them on me, haven’t you?” he pressed, flexing his fingers against the wall, tilting his head to bare his neck to Taekwoon when he remained silent. “It’s alright to admit it, you know. I’m not a fragile little princess. I won’t break if you mention that the idea of slicing me open just to watch me bleed appeals to you.”

“I wouldn’t,” Taekwoon said. His voice was strained, even higher than usual. He actually...sounded distressed. His hands tightened around Jaehwan’s wrists and he rested his cheek against Jaehwan’s hair and just stood there and breathed for a moment, as though he were trying to regain control of himself. “I wouldn’t,” he said again. “Not to you.”

“Why?” Jaehwan spat, slightly surprised by the venom in his own voice. “Because I’m _damaged?”_

Taekwoon hissed and pressed himself closer to Jaehwan’s back, every inch of them touching from shoulders to knees. “No,” he said, “because I save those for people who deserve it.”

A little ‘oh’ noise escaped Jaehwan’s mouth and he felt himself slump. Taekwoon traced kisses along his neck and waited while he gathered his thoughts. After a moment or two, during which Jaehwan had to remind himself how to breathe, he said, “I think that you promised me a good hard fuck. Were you planning to deliver on that, or should I just go back to my own room now?”

Taekwoon growled and bit one of the knobs of Jaehwan’s spine, just above the collar of his shirt.

“No _marks,”_ Jaehwan hissed, a reminder he shouldn’t have to give.

But Taekwoon just chuffed softly, the most infuriating kind of laughter, and divested Jaehwan of his shirt. The pants went next, tossed aside on the floor like they hadn’t cost millions of won, and then Jaehwan was standing there in just his underwear and socks, his hands flat against the wall beside his head because some part of him was waiting for Taekwoon to restrain him again.

Instead Taekwoon knelt behind him, shimmied Jaehwan's boxer briefs slowly down his legs, and then bit down on the fleshy part of his ass.

Jaehwan squeaked, jerking away on reflex. It only served to rub his rapidly-swelling dick against the wall, which was nearly as torturous.

A low chuckle, and Taekwoon’s thumb smoothed over the place where he’d bitten. Instead of soothing, it just drew Jaehwan’s attention to the slight ache, making his cheeks flush and fueling the pool of arousal in his belly.

“Taekwoon, please, I want–”

The flat of Taekwoon’s hand met Jaehwan’s asscheek and he cut himself off with another squeaky surprised noise. Taekwoon’s broad palms spread across either side of Jaehwan’s ass and his fingers dug into the soft flesh and he breathed against the base of Jaehwan’s spine, “Shut up.” It was much softer than usual, not said on an irritated growl.

And then Taekwoon spread Jaehwan’s cheeks apart and ran his tongue down the crack of his ass.

The sound Jaehwan made was undignified, a squeal that probably made him sound like...like...a distressed baby goat, or something. But it didn’t matter, because Taekwoon’s tongue was pressed flat over his asshole and that was doing a rather good job of removing all coherent thought from Jaehwan’s head.

Taekwoon’s tongue prodded experimentally at the puckered ring of muscles a few times, testing its give or perhaps just teasing Jaehwan mercilessly, before it pressed inside.

“Oh god,” Jaehwan said, rocking his forehead against the wall. “You’re lucky I showered before coming home. _Fuck.”_

Taekwoon apparently ignored him, very focused on his task of _driving Jaehwan absolutely insane using only his tongue._ He dragged that tongue back out of Jaehwan and licked a slow line all the way down his crack and back up.

Jaehwan’s hands clenched against nothing. Fuck, he was so hard already. Had been since Taekwoon had gotten on his knees for him, if he was being completely honest.

Taekwoon started up a steady rhythm, fucking Jaehwan with his tongue, and just like that he was _gone._

“Fuck, Taekwoon,” he breathed, hips jerking back into it, feeling the fine bones of Taekwoon’s face press into his ass before Taekwoon restrained him with rough hands on his hips. He pinned Jaehwan to the wall, held him there as the tongue-fucking got more enthusiastic, straining to reach deeper with every thrust.

It was _so hot._ Jaehwan had never, in a million years, expected that Taekwoon would willingly do something like this for him. Even if it was just to rile Jaehwan up, to watch him fall apart the way that he always, always did for Taekwoon. Only for Taekwoon.

One of Taekwoon’s thumbs joined in, just stroking Jaehwan’s rim at first, and then slowly pulling him open further for Taekwoon’s tongue, and then sliding in beside it. His thumb remained still once it was in, just there for his tongue to work around, to stretch Jaehwan wider, to make him feel fuller.

He was so wet, Taekwoon’s saliva everywhere and probably dripping down his chin, making little slurping noises like Taekwoon was enjoying a very tasty treat. And god, that he could be enjoying _Jaehwan’s ass_ that much–

Jaehwan’s blunt nails scratched at the wood paneling and he knocked his head against the wall. “Please,” he sobbed, aching and desperate for Taekwoon, both wanting to be fucked and wanting Taekwoon to never, ever stop what he was doing. “Please, Taekwoon, I need–”

Taekwoon pulled back and bit into Jaehwan’s asscheek again, in a different spot than before. “What? You need to come? I thought you liked being denied.”

“No,” Jaehwan said, practically wailing, hands scrabbling for purchase against the smooth wall. “No no no I need you to fuck me. Please. Taekwoon I spent all night wishing that I was in your bed instead of his please just fuck me. Fuck.”

The noise Taekwoon made was akin to a pleased purr, and he rose smoothly and laid a line of kisses across Jaehwan’s scarred shoulders. His face was damp. “Well,” he murmured, “when you ask so nicely.”

Jaehwan expected Taekwoon to go get the lube and fuck him right there. Or maybe he’d walk off and Jaehwan would go join him on the bed. He _did not_ expect Taekwoon to yank him around and then _throw him over his shoulder like he weighed nothing,_ but that was what happened. He yelped in shock, fingers unable to find a grip on Taekwoon’s back as he was carried across the room. Taekwoon’s footsteps didn’t even falter under his flailing weight and that was...really hot, actually.

Taekwoon threw him down on the bed and Jaehwan moaned breathlessly as he bounced a few times before settling. There was a moment’s pause as Taekwoon rooted around the bedside table drawer looking for the lube and then finally discovered that it was actually lodged between the mattress and the headboard.

The bright click of a cap, the unattractive squelch of a half-empty lube bottle as Taekwoon squeezed some out over his fingers, and Jaehwan giggled.

“Shut up,” Taekwoon muttered, and shoved two fingers in Jaehwan’s ass, probably hoping to distract him. But there was a soft pink blush dusting the crests of his high cheekbones and Jaehwan couldn’t do anything but prod a bit further.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, Taekwoon,” he said, slinging one of his legs up over Taekwoon’s shoulder both to let him get a better angle and to lightly nudge Taekwoon with his knee. “It’s not like a bottle of lube has never made a gross noise during sexy times before.”

Taekwoon retaliated by finding his prostate and jabbing at it several times, really too viciously to be good.

“Ow, fuck, be careful,” Jaehwan hissed, kicking him in the back. “I like a little pain, but my boner is not going to stick around if you keep doing that.”

Taekwoon huffed but he dropped an apologetic little kiss to Jaehwan’s knee, so he decided to forgive him anyway.

“I asked for a _good_ fuck,” Jaehwan reminded him, just in case he’d forgotten. He thought about reaching for Taekwoon, thought about what Taekwoon might do to him for it with the mood he was in, and almost did it before Taekwoon leaned down over him and captured his mouth in a searing kiss.

Fuck, it didn’t even matter that Taekwoon had literally just had his mouth on Jaehwan’s asshole. His lips were plush and he kissed slow and sensual like he had nowhere else to be and no plans of stopping anytime soon. His fingers started thrusting inside Jaehwan, smooth glide in and out, brushing carefully over his prostate on exactly every third stroke.

Jaehwan broke the kiss and turned his head to the side, panting harshly. He reached for Taekwoon without thinking, got his hands around Taekwoon’s ribcage and managed to run them up the knobs of his spine just once before Taekwoon pulled his fingers out of Jaehwan and pinned his wrists against the mattress. Lube smeared over Jaehwan’s skin. He was so turned on he thought he might die.

“This again,” Taekwoon muttered, and then he got this _look_ on his face like...like he was plotting something. He kissed Jaehwan again, and his mouth was so hot and his tongue fucking between Jaehwan’s lips was very distracting, and the next thing he knew Taekwoon had just finished knotting a silk rope around one of Jaehwan’s wrists.

He pulled away a bit to mess with the other end of the rope, and Jaehwan could have tilted his head up and probably seen what he was doing, but instead he met Taekwoon’s eyes.

Taekwoon paused, watching him quietly for a moment. He would never ask _is this okay?_ But Jaehwan knew that was the moment that he should speak up, if he didn’t want it. He also knew that they should probably be a little more responsible about that sort of thing, talking about shit and having safe words and...whatever. But they didn’t. If he needed to, he would say something and Taekwoon would untie him, no questions asked.

He wouldn’t need to anyway. He trusted Taekwoon with his fucking life. A few ropes were nothing. Besides, he could feel the blood pulsing in his dick with every slide of the rope over his skin, could see the answering heat in Taekwoon’s eyes as he pulled Jaehwan’s wrist up tight and started meticulously wrapping the other one.

That was when Jaehwan finally looked up, saw the metal ring in the headboard that Taekwoon had laced the rope through, and immediately smirked. “You kinky fucker,” he said appreciatively. There was only one reason for Taekwoon’s padded leather headboard to have something like that built into it. “How long have you been planning to tie me up?”

“Since I met you,” Taekwoon muttered, so low that Jaehwan might not have been meant to hear it. He finished the second knot and tested the ropes, ensuring that they weren’t cutting off Jaehwan’s circulation. It was weirdly practiced and oddly attentive. Taekwoon didn’t usually spend so much time making sure that Jaehwan was comfortable.

Instead of putting his fingers back in Jaehwan’s ass immediately, Taekwoon took his time running his tongue over the tendons in Jaehwan’s arms that stuck out from the position they were being held in. He scraped his teeth over one near Jaehwan’s elbow and Jaehwan gasped helplessly.

“Taekwoon please,” he whined, thrusting upwards, his dick glancing off Taekwoon’s abs before he lifted himself too far away to reach and then pinned Jaehwan’s hips down with a forearm against his belly. Jaehwan hissed, _“Fuck,”_ and lay still, waiting impatiently, every one of his muscles trembling with tension. God, he was so hard.

Taekwoon nipped at the bony jut of Jaehwan’s elbow and then trailed kisses down his arm to his neck. He spent an achingly long moment just mouthing at Jaehwan’s ear, playing with the empty piercings in his earlobe.

Jaehwan tugged at his restraints and demanded, “Get in me. Or touch my dick. Or _something._ I’m dying here.”

Taekwoon had the gall to _snort_ at him, stupid chuffing laughter against his neck and hot breath making Jaehwan shiver, but then he did finally dig up the lube again.

And instead of fingering Jaehwan for even longer, he just slicked up his cock and finally, _finally_ sunk in. He was slow, a kind of careful that Jaehwan was beginning to think was Taekwoon’s _actual_ usual, now that they were allowed to care about each other a bit.

He didn’t do any of that shit where he waited for Jaehwan to get acclimated, though. As soon as he’d bottomed out he pulled back, still slow and steady and sensual as fuck, shifting Jaehwan so both of his legs were up over his shoulders.

Fuck, it was good. Jaehwan was almost dizzy with it, letting out a low moan when Taekwoon’s next thrust in slid right over his prostate. He curled his hands into fists and dug his nails into his palms, trying to keep himself from coming already like a horny teenager.

Taekwoon’s stamina, in contrast, was admirable. The slow, measured thrusts became faster, harder, but never lost their rhythm. He dug his fingers into Jaehwan’s asscheeks, spreading him just that much further, and grunted with the force of his hips.

Jaehwan panted and whined, he opened his fists and then clenched them closed again, wishing they were closing over Taekwoon’s arms, or his own dick, or _shit,_ _anything._ “Taekwoon – ah – please,” _touch me,_ he was going to say. “Kiss me. I need. Fuck – shit – that’s so – _Taekwoon.”_

Taekwoon’s teeth scraped over Jaehwan’s knee, and then he was dropping Jaehwan’s legs to his waist and lowering himself to bite his way into Jaehwan’s mouth. The kiss was too harsh, sharp and cruel and all of the things that Jaehwan was beginning to suspect that Taekwoon wasn’t really at all. He let out a sob and turned his head away.

With an especially sharp thrust Taekwoon asked, “What, I thought you wanted me to kiss you?”

Jaehwan’s dick was hot and leaking and he was so full and Taekwoon’s dick felt _so good_ inside him but all of a sudden there was an ache in his chest and a prickling at the backs of his eyes and it was stupid because they’d never been like that before. He had no right to expect anything different from Taekwoon than what they’d always done...except that he was under the impression that things had changed and...maybe it was just because it was the first time Taekwoon had been so rough with him since then.

He found himself murmuring, “Not like that.” He would have reached for Taekwoon, held his face steady while he showed him what he wanted, but instead he had to trust that Taekwoon would understand.

He didn’t see anything in Taekwoon’s face change, but his nose bumped Jaehwan’s and then there was a soft little peck at the corner of his mouth.

Jaehwan inhaled deeply and turned to face Taekwoon, and found his lips captured with the same fervor as much earlier, sensual like before but a bit less unhurried. He imagined that Taekwoon was aching almost as much as he was.

He kissed Taekwoon back with as much enthusiasm as he could manage, let Taekwoon’s tongue into his mouth and _sucked._ He never wanted to let go, never wanted anything but this, ever again.

Taekwoon’s long fingers wrapped around his dick and started stroking. He thumbed over the head and precum slicked the way as he sped up, hips moving to match. He lifted his head when it became too difficult to kiss and fuck at the same time, harsh breaths hot against Jaehwan’s face.

Jaehwan felt Taekwoon jerk inside him as the rest of his body went utterly still and he let out a high, breathy moan. After a moment he went back to jacking Jaehwan, hand quick and single-minded since he’d already gotten his own release.

Jaehwan choked, his back arching, arms straining against the ropes and he gasped, “Fuck, Taekwoon, I love you,” and came.

Taekwoon’s eyes went wide and his hand slowed jerkily until he was just sat there with his fist around Jaehwan’s dick. Jaehwan stared back with equally wide eyes, still panting from the exertion. Taekwoon didn’t say anything.

“Fuck,” Jaehwan hissed, and then couldn’t bring himself to say anything more.

Slowly, Taekwoon released Jaehwan’s dick and reached for the ropes. He untied the knots carefully and then rubbed gently at Jaehwan’s hands and wrists until he pulled them out of Taekwoon’s grasp, laying them against his own chest instead.

Jaehwan swallowed around what felt like a sharp rock in his throat and mumbled, “I um. That was.”

Taekwoon sat up and his dick slid out of Jaehwan. He didn’t seem to notice. He just stared down at Jaehwan’s hands, at the faint marks around his wrists from the rope.

 _No marks,_ Jaehwan remembered, and couldn’t bring himself to give a shit.

The alarm clock on the nightstand ticked at them, loud in the silence. The floorboards in the room above them (Wonshik’s, Jaehwan thought) creaked unevenly like some of them had suffered more abuse than others.

Taekwoon cleared his throat. “We should talk,” he murmured.

Jaehwan swallowed again. The sharp rock was still there. “Yeah, we should.”

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey friends, sorry it's been so long since the last update. It has been a stressful few weeks. But! My temp job is over so I am officially back down to two, which should leave me more time to work on this. However, I am going to be on vacation for the next couple of weeks, so I may or may not manage updates during that time. But I have a long car trip ahead and we have three drivers to cycle through, so hopefully I'll get some writing time then.
> 
> Sorry again. I promise I'm not going to abandon this fic. I just have a lot going on right now that I wasn't expecting when I first started to post.

 

Wonshik was supposed to have a mission in a few hours. Hongbin had ordered extra patrols in the West Quadrant, protecting their people and their interests from the increase of RM’s invading forces. Tensions had been mounting and altercations growing more violent, and all Wonshik could do was make sure that he was out there on the streets fighting beside his brothers and sisters, keeping everyone safe as much as he was able.

There was blood on his hands, far more blood than he would ever be able to wash off, but the more blood that was spilled from RM’s people, the less from theirs. It was all he could do.

He finished re-cleaning his brass knuckles and set them down on top of his dresser. It had been a long while since he’d last spent so many consecutive nights alone in that bedroom rather than in the apartment halfway across the city that he thought of as his true home. The place was in Taemin’s name only, to protect all three of them and because he was the only one there consistently.

_ They both have very demanding jobs,  _ Wonshik could imagine him saying to the neighbors quite often.  _ They’re on business trips a lot. _

Maybe Wonshik should just give it all up and become a car salesman. At least then he’d be able to go home to his family at night.

The V-shaped scar on his bare forearm reminded him that it would never be that easy. You didn’t just walk out of this life. That wasn’t how it worked. Once you had pledged your loyalty to the family, you were there until you died.

Or until you betrayed them so badly that they killed you.

There was a knock on his door, three sharp raps and then silence. Wonshik went over and pulled it open to find a stone-faced Sanghyuk on the other side. He raised an eyebrow and leaned one shoulder against the door jamb. “Can I help you?”

“You’re needed in Hongbin’s study,” Sanghyuk said. He didn’t meet Wonshik’s eyes, choosing instead to stare resolutely at Wonshik’s forehead.

“Right,” Wonshik said, and waited for Sanghyuk to offer further details. He didn’t. “Let’s go then, I guess.”

Sanghyuk turned around and started marching down the hall, and Wonshik couldn’t help but liken him to an executioner leading a prisoner to his death. Which couldn’t be right, except that Wonshik’s gut feelings were rarely wrong.

Hongbin seemed surprised to see them, when they walked into his study without knocking. “Sanghyuk,” he said, “I didn’t expect you back so soon.”

Sanghyuk stepped up beside Hongbin’s desk, placing himself so that he was half facing both of them. “I got what I needed,” he said shortly, and then gestured vaguely at Wonshik and added, “Have a seat.”

Hongbin’s eyebrows went up. “Sanghyuk, what exactly is this about?”

“I’ll explain in a moment, Hyung.” He gestured again at Wonshik, who was still standing just in front of the closed door. “Have a seat,” he repeated.

So Wonshik approached the desk and sat, curling his fingers tightly around the arms of the chair and finding his voice at last. “Hyuk, what the hell.”

“Wonshik,” Sanghyuk said, forgoing the honorifics entirely, “do you want to explain to Hongbin where you go on your nights off?”

It was like someone had dropped a boulder on top of him. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see, couldn’t  _ think. “What?”  _ he wheezed.

“Tell your supreme leader where you go on your nights off, Wonshik, or I swear to god that I will,” Sanghyuk said. His voice was ice and steel, the voice of a seasoned interrogator. Not the voice of a silly man in his early twenties who spent too much time in front of a screen and was kind of a brat. Sometimes Wonshik forgot that Sanghyuk was their spymaster, forgot what that meant.

He swallowed several times, trying to get his throat to work properly. “I have an apartment,” he said.

Hongbin showed no reaction, as though he had known. Of course he’d known that Wonshik went  _ somewhere  _ on his days off, probably suspected that he had a secondary residence. It couldn’t come as a surprise.

Sanghyuk was still watching him with a predator’s eye, though.

So Wonshik added, quietly, “And a lover.”

Something about that was  _ funny,  _ apparently, because Sanghyuk laughed loudly, almost a cackle that would have made lesser men jump. “A lover?” he asked, and Wonshik didn’t know what it was about the way he was speaking, but he sounded cruel.

“Yes.” He took a deep breath. “What is this about, Sanghyuk?”

Hongbin, also, was leaning back in his chair with his hands folded over his stomach, apparently waiting for the same explanation.

Sanghyuk lifted the ipad he’d been holding, turned on the screen and set it down in front of Hongbin on the desk. “Park Jimin is in a dance troupe with a man named Lee Taemin. Do you know him, Wonshik?” he asked.

Wonshik’s sharp intake of breath was answer enough.

“He’s your lover?” Hongbin asked, seeming to get where Sanghyuk was going with this, finally. Perhaps Wonshik would have caught up sooner too, if he weren’t so busy panicking about the fact that he’d been found out, that they were probably going to kill him for his betrayal.

He nodded slowly.

“So you can get us in contact with him,” Hongbin murmured, eyeing Wonshik with some scrutiny.

A second edge of panic lashed at him. It was suddenly dawning on him why they wanted to talk to Taemin, what exactly they wanted from him. “Oyabun–” he began, but before he was finished speaking Hongbin had interrupted.

“The name sounds familiar,” he said thoughtfully. He glanced at Sanghyuk. “You said Lee Taemin is a dancer? You’re sure he’s not geondal?”

Sanghyuk shook his head. “His older brother was part of VIXX, back during Old Man Park’s reign. Died in service during the last turf war. We tried to convince Lee Taemin to join, but he wanted nothing to do with it and blamed us for the loss of his brother.”

“So he’s unlikely to talk to any of ours,” Hongbin concluded, and turned his gaze back onto Wonshik, whose vision was starting to go a bit gray at the edges.

He took a breath, felt the world tilt a bit before righting itself, and said, “He stayed away from all of this on purpose. You can’t ask me to drag him into a war that he wanted no part of.”

Sanghyuk slammed his hands down on the surface of the desk and leaned very, very close to Wonshik. “Would you rather our people keep dying?” he asked. His voice dropped into a hiss, his face so near Wonshik’s that he could smell Sanghyuk’s sour breath. “Would you rather I tell Hongbin about your  _ other  _ indiscretion and see how he feels about leniency right now?”

He couldn’t. Everything that Wonshik had done the past years, ever since the very beginning of their ill-advised relationship, had been to protect them. He couldn’t ask Taemin to betray his own conscience and do something that would ultimately leave him tied to VIXX for life, even more surely than he already was. But he also couldn’t let Sanghyuk tell Hongbin any more than he already had, because Hongbin would be watching him now and Wonshik couldn’t risk the people he loved.

“What exactly do you want?” he asked, desperate to find a way around it. Maybe if he could get the information for them some other way–

“We need to get close to Park Jimin. He’s our ticket to taking RM down.”

Park Jimin. Cute, soft Park Jimin with the round cheeks and terrifying thighs, who was the only person in their troupe who could give Taemin a run for his money. Park Jimin who had only ever been gentle, who had only ever been kind, who had readily accepted them and had snuck them backstage at shows so that they could surprise Taemin with huge bouquets of flowers and who always made sure that Taemin took care of himself when they weren’t around to drag him from the practice room once in a while.

“You’re going to kill him, aren’t you,” he said, unable to muster the energy to make it a question.

Hongbin shook his head though, just barely visible past Sanghyuk’s looming form. “We’re going to take him hostage. We’ll only kill him if it’s absolutely necessary.”

That was more likely than Hongbin made it sound, but it was better than nothing. It was  _ something  _ that Wonshik could use to hopefully get Taemin to go along with this. Because he was realizing that no matter what he did, he would have to convince Taemin to help them. For all their sakes.

“Taemin is the love of my life, Oyabun,” he murmured, soft, pleading, hoping to god that he could convince Hongbin not to do this by appealing to the kinder parts of his nature. “If something happens to Park Jimin and he has a hand in it, he’ll never forgive himself. It’ll  _ kill him.” _

Hongbin’s eyes went tight at the corners and his adam’s apple bobbed, but then stony determination took over his face and he said, “I’m sorry, Wonshik. But we’re running out of options. As long as RM cooperates, Jimin will have nothing to fear.”

Wonshik dropped his head into his hands. He expelled a shaky breath and realized that his whole body was trembling.  _ The adrenaline, _ he thought vaguely, and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes until he saw fireworks behind his eyelids. “Alright,” he whispered, and couldn’t have raised his voice further if he tried. “I’ll do what you ask, Oyabun. But only because  _ you _ ask it of me.”

“Your loyalty remains unchanged, as always, Ravi,” Hongbin said in response.

Wonshik rather thought it was forgiveness for hiding things from him. If only Hongbin knew the whole truth, perhaps he would not be willing to brush Wonshik’s crimes away so easily.

–

Jaehwan sat naked on Taekwoon’s bed and listened to the shower running in the next room. He was exhausted, rung out from the sleepless night beside Sehun and then the activities of the morning, but he couldn’t have slept if he tried. His heart was pounding so fast he was surprised it hadn’t flown out of his chest and run all the way to China already, and he was shaking so hard he couldn’t stand up on his own.

So he sat naked in Taekwoon’s bed, listening to the water shut off in the next room and then to the noise of a hair dryer. Taekwoon had said they needed to talk but then he’d declared that he was going to shower and he’d been in there ever since. He hadn’t even thrown a wet washcloth at Jaehwan like he usually did.

There was cum drying tacky on his skin and sliding slowly out of his ass and normally Jaehwan would care. Normally he would make a face and go about cleaning himself up as soon as possible.

This wasn’t normal, though. He’d told Taekwoon he  _ loved him.  _ He was a fucking idiot and Taekwoon was never going to touch him again and it was all his fault.

The bathroom door opened and Taekwoon stood there with a towel wrapped around his waist, staring like he hadn’t expected Jaehwan to still be in the room when he came out. Eventually he unfroze, walked across the room and yanked open one of his dresser drawers to start rifling through clothes. Nothing in there was folded. Jaehwan didn’t know why he was surprised.

“You said we should talk,” Jaehwan said, and it croaked oddly.

Taekwoon nodded once and hummed a soft affirmation, but he didn’t look at Jaehwan.

Jaehwan sat in silence for a moment, a fistful of bedsheet clenched in either hand, and watched Taekwoon drop the towel and pull on a pair of boxer briefs. A droplet of water skated down over the shifting muscles of his back, like a particularly determined skier on a difficult slope during an avalanche.

Jaehwan shook his head and told Taekwoon, “I didn’t mean to say it.”

Taekwoon’s spine went rigid, such military posture for a man who hadn’t done his military service. “Then why did you?” he asked.

There was a niggling feeling in Jaehwan, a slowly inching pain like the stab of a needle sliding into his flesh, that no matter what he said, he was going to lose Taekwoon. And if that was the case, he couldn’t do anything but tell the truth. The whole truth, for once in his god-damned life, because Taekwoon could tell him to get out, he could shut Jaehwan out of his life for good, but at least Jaehwan would know that he knew how Jaehwan really felt.

“Because I meant it,” he said, and expected...he didn’t know. For Taekwoon to get angry. To growl and snap and perhaps even yell. To get violent against Jaehwan like he always had been.

Instead he held that stiff posture for another moment or two, and then his shoulders slumped. His head hung and he leaned both hands against the lip of the dresser and he just breathed, for a long while.

Jaehwan didn’t dare move. There was some sort of spell winding throughout the room, it seemed, and if he so much as twitched he would break it and lose Taekwoon forever.

Moments stretched out into minutes and then began to make Jaehwan think that Taekwoon was frozen in that position for all eternity, turned to stone by the force of Jaehwan’s emotions, and wouldn’t that be laughable when people found out because he was just standing there in his underwear, sculpted body on full display, and–

“Okay,” Taekwoon whispered. Just that one, tiny word.

“Okay?” Jaehwan squeaked, hands spasming around their fistfuls of blanket.

Taekwoon’s head lifted, and he turned slowly, an awkward shift back and forth like he’d forgotten exactly how his limbs worked, until he was facing Jaehwan. “Okay,” he said again. And then he surged suddenly forward, catching Jaehwan in a kiss, consuming the fiery passion of his love ounce by ounce until Jaehwan was so empty he simply fell backwards.

Taekwoon followed him down and kept kissing him, one hand tangling in Jaehwan’s hair and the other cradling his jaw like he was a precious thing, and perhaps Jaehwan wasn’t empty after all. Perhaps he was full of things that he never thought he’d feel, things that he’d never felt as though he had a right to.

His lips were sore by the time Taekwoon allowed them a break, running his nose softly along the rise of Jaehwan’s cheekbone and then down the line of his throat. “Say it again,” he murmured.

Jaehwan’s breath hitched. His lips and tongue struggled for a moment to remember how to form words. And then finally he murmured, “I love you.”

Taekwoon pressed a smile against Jaehwan’s pulse point and then whispered, “Me too.”

“What?” Jaehwan asked. His breath hitched again, but this time in the unfortunately familiar precursor to a sob.

Taekwoon bit at his earlobe, kissed his temple, and smoothed his hair back gently before he finally admitted, “I love you.”

A tear rolled down Jaehwan’s temple, and then another. “You’d better not be teasing me, Jung Taekwoon,” he said, squeezing Taekwoon tight around the waist. “I swear to god, if you are I’ll break every bone in your body. I know how.”

“I’m aware,” Taekwoon said, and scoffed a bit. “I’m not teasing.”

“For real?” Jaehwan had to ask again, just to be sure, his voice breaking on a sob.

Taekwoon sought out his mouth again, kissed him until every thought of tears had fled from his mind. This time when he eventually broke away, it was to bury his face in Jaehwan’s hair and breathe slow and deep.

“You forgot to shave,” Jaehwan muttered, letting his hands wander up and down Taekwoon’s back, enjoying the play of muscles beneath warm skin. “I’m going to have beard burn for days.”

In retaliation, Taekwoon rubbed his stubbled chin against Jaehwan’s forehead. It made Jaehwan squawk and started an impromptu wrestling match that ended with them back mostly where they’d started, except that Taekwoon’s mouth was wrapped around Jaehwan’s nipple and Jaehwan was no longer complaining.

There was no way that Jaehwan was getting it up again anytime soon, though, so after teasing for another moment Taekwoon flopped to the side and simply laid there watching Jaehwan.

“What,” Jaehwan said, swatting at him, “do I have something on my face?”

“Yeah, beard burn,” Taekwoon said, starting to point it out, fingers skating across Jaehwan’s chin and cheeks.

Jaehwan caught his wrist and held it down against the mattress. Taekwoon could probably break the hold if he wanted, but the fact that he was just letting Jaehwan restrain him was immensely satisfying.

A small smile was quirking Taekwoon’s lips – had been there since the first kiss, practically. It didn’t seem likely to leave anytime soon. “I love you,” he murmured, soft and sure and full of so many feelings that Jaehwan thought he could spend a lifetime identifying them all.

“I love you too,” Jaehwan said. A giddy little laugh burst out of him, and he crowded into Taekwoon’s space for more kisses.

_ I love you I love you Love you love you loveyou loveyou loveyouloveyouloveyouloveyou  _ said his heart, to the beat of a million tiny fairy wings.

–

The building that Wonshik was standing in front of didn’t look like much. It was big and gray and made of concrete, like most of the buildings in Seoul.

He didn’t want to go in. He’d been in there a hundred times before, to visit Taemin or to drag him away from one of the practice rooms that his dance troupe leased in the basement, but this was different.

He didn’t want to hurt Taemin. No matter what he fucking did, Taemin was probably going to hate him afterwards, and suddenly, for just a moment, he hated Hongbin for making him do this. Hated the whole organization, every part of the world and of his life that had led him to that point, the point of deciding whether to hurt the man he loved or betray the man he’d pledged his life and loyalty to.

He pushed through the revolving door, nodded at the security guard, headed for the stairs. Taemin would say no anyway. He would never help Wonshik hurt someone he cared about, regardless of the reasons.

The concrete walls of the stairwell seemed to be closing in on him and Wonshik’s knees felt like they were made of pudding. He could still back out. He could turn around and go back out the way he came and Taemin would never have to know what Wonshik had almost done.

He kept walking, pressing forward because he knew that to go back unsuccessful would be worse than not to go back at all. Hongbin would not take well to Wonshik defying his orders.

When he opened the door at the bottom of the stairs, he could hear music thrumming in the air. There were at least two dance troupes that rented space down there, he knew. And Taemin’s troupe was large and occupied at least four practice rooms that Wonshik knew of. Some of the songs were discordant, clashing against each other violently in the small, echoing space.

Bile was inching its way up Wonshik’s throat, but he made himself keep walking. He only had a vague idea of where Taemin might be, but that was okay. The longer it took to find him, the longer Wonshik could delay the inevitable. Even if it was just a few more minutes. As long as Taemin loved him for just a bit longer, he thought maybe he could survive when Taemin eventually told him to take a hike, that what he was made loving him no longer worth it.

He could feel the certainty of it happening like a foul taste on the back of his tongue, or perhaps that was just the urge to vomit still building.

A few meters ahead of him a door opened and laughter and music spilled out. Jimin stepped out, calling behind him, “I’ll be right back. Chill.”

Wonshik’s steps faltered, and he stood and stared.

Jimin was just as kind-looking as Wonshik remembered from the last time he’d seen him, months ago. His hair was bubblegum pink, soft and floppy and soaked with sweat across his forehead. He was wearing a loose tanktop and basketball shorts, the sneakers on his feet worn from long hours of dancing. He was just as determined as Taemin was. It was the reason they were such good friends, even in spite of their slight rivalry.

He paused in the hallway when he spotted Wonshik, and the practice room door fell shut behind him. “Hey,” he said, and his cheeks squished up in one of his bright smiles. He had always been so quick to offer a smile to anyone. “Long time no see, Hyung. Taemin’s in the small practice room working on his solo.”

“Thanks,” Wonshik croaked, and started to take a step forward before he rethought it. “Actually, though, can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Sure,” Jimin said, cheeks squishing higher until his eyes were just little crescents. “I could use some fresh air anyway.”

They took the elevator up to the fourth-floor smoker’s balcony, a pathetic little thing not even large or important enough to have benches, just a couple of vaguely leafy plants to hide behind. Jimin leaned against the railing and gazed out at the city beyond, fast-moving cars and smog and the bustle of too many people in too small a space.

Wonshik took a breath and then joined him, bracing his elbows against the chipping blue paint of the railing. “Do you know what your boyfriend does, Jimin?” he asked.

If Jimin was surprised by the question, he showed no sign of it. He just kept watching the cars go by, four stories beneath them, and replied, “Of course I do. Kind of hard not to when I’m living with him.”

“Right,” Wonshik said, and sighed. He turned away from Jimin and looked instead at the pearlescent shine of the building across the street. It was very nearly all windows, and the sun glinting off it in places was almost painful. “Do you know what I do?”

“Yeah,” Jimin said, his voice soft. “Taemin told me, when he found out about Joonie-hyung. I hope that’s okay.”

“Too late to change it now,” Wonshik said. He paused another moment, picked at a hangnail on his right pinky, and debated whether saying anything else was wise. “You know what’s happening then, between RM’s people and mine?”

Jimin’s hand covered his and stopped him from his fussing before he managed to draw blood. “I know,” he said. “Hyung, what is this really about?”

Wonshik huffed out a sound that wasn’t a laugh or a sigh and ducked his head. “My boss,” he said, “he found out about Taemin.”

“Oh,” Jimin murmured. “Was he angry?”

“No,” Wonshik answered. “No, he wasn’t angry, because he also found out that...that Taemin knows you.”

When he glanced up, Jimin’s sweet smile was gone. He looked stricken, his face gone pale, and he swayed like he might faint.

Wonshik reached out an arm to steady him, but Jimin shrugged it away.

“And what is it that your boss wants with me?” he asked, voice surprisingly steady.

“He just wants the fighting to stop,” Wonshik said, knowing he sounded desperate. “He wants to stop putting good people in the ground, wants to stop adding names to the list of bereaved families that we visit and support. He wants what you want, Jimin.”

Jimin’s brows drew together, and he said, “No offense, Hyung, but you don’t know what I want.”

“I know you don’t want people to die for no reason,” Wonshik argued. He grasped Jimin’s wrist. “Please, Jimin. If you help me, then no one else has to die.”

Jimin hesitated. He looked Wonshik in the eye and his brows furrowed more and it seemed like surely he would blow Wonshik off, would refuse to help him and then probably tell RM about the plan and there would be no way they could go through with it. Wonshik almost wished he would. But eventually, Jimin asked, “What would I have to do?”

“Come with me to see my boss. He wants your help negotiating with your boyfriend.”

Jimin snorted, half derisive and half (Wonshik hoped) just straight amused. “He wants me as a hostage.”

Wonshik winced. “I hate that word,” he muttered. But it was true, so it wasn’t like he had room to complain.

Jimin had already moved on anyway. “I have another hour of practice,” he said, “and they’re expecting me back. But after that….” He trailed off, a frown scrunching his features, and then he asked, “How likely is it that your boss is just going to kill me?”

“I’ll protect you, I promise,” Wonshik said.

“The word of a gangster isn’t worth much, Hyung.”

Wonshik flinched again, his heart rabbiting in his throat. Jimin had no reason to believe him. There was nothing he could say to convince Jimin that Wonshik would put his safety above anything else. Except– “I swear on Taemin’s  _ life,  _ Jimin, I will do everything in my power to ensure that you make it out of there alive.”

“Okay.” Jimin squared his shoulders, diminutive form seeming impossibly large for just a moment. “Meet me at the side entrance in an hour, then.”

“Thank you,” Wonshik managed to say past the lump in his throat. “Thank you, Jimin, I swear I’ll repay you somehow.”

Jimin just waved jauntily as he turned to head back inside. “You owe me big, Hyung. And don’t worry,” he glanced back over his shoulder and gave Wonshik a coy look through his eyelashes. “I won’t tell Taemin about this.”

Wonshik breathed a sigh of relief as he watched Jimin go. Maybe he would survive this damn shitstorm without losing everything precious to him after all.

–

“Are you sure it was a good idea to ask Wonshik to betray his lover like this?” Hakyeon asked, lounging naked across Hongbin’s desk, golden skin glistening with sweat.

Hongbin nuzzled into Hakyeon’s soft belly and admitted, “No.”

“But you don’t have a choice,” Hakyeon said, a familiar tune.

“You know I don’t, Baby,” Hongbin sighed, finally rolling his chair away from the desk a little and reaching for the wet wipes in the bottom drawer. So much for basking in the afterglow.

Hakyeon hummed thoughtfully, and carded his fingers through Hongbin’s hair as Hongbin started carefully wiping him down with the damp cloth. “There’s always another way, Hongbin,” he murmured.

“Really?” Hongbin said, pausing in his task to gaze incredulously up at his lover. “I thought at least you would be on my side in this. Our people are  _ dying,  _ Hyung. Or have you forgotten that?”

Framing Hongbin’s face between his hands, Hakyeon said, “No, Baby, of course not. But if you manage to alienate all your people in the process of ending the war, will that really be worth it?”

“Yes,” Hongbin said without hesitation. “It’s my duty to protect all of you. I promised Old Man Park.”

“Not at the expense of everything we’ve built, Hongbin,” Hakyeon said. “Old Man Park wouldn’t want that, either.”

Hongbin sighed again, and covered one of Hakyeon’s hands with his own, cradling it against his cheek. “Okay. But Wonshik’s orders have already been given. I’m not going to change them now.”

“Fine,” Hakyeon said with an exasperated huff. But he gave Hongbin a kiss, so he obviously wasn’t too mad, even if he pulled away afterwards and slid off the desk. “Speaking of, he’ll probably be back soon, and you know how embarrassed he gets when he walks in on us like this.”

“He’s seen worse,” Hongbin muttered, but he let Hakyeon dance away and start pulling on his clothes, and then eventually (after most of that golden skin was covered up) moved to follow suit.

No sooner was he dressed and all evidence of their activities cleared away than there was a knock at the door. He called, “Enter,” and Wonshik marched in with a small man in tow.

The first thing Hongbin noticed was the bubblegum pink hair, followed by a soft, round face, and skinny jeans straining over thick thighs. Hongbin didn’t know much about Park Jimin, but at least he’d made sure that he would recognize him on sight.

“That was quick,” he said to Wonshik, leaning back in his chair.

Wonshik’s movement was stilted, wary like a scared child shying away from the monster in his closet. He’d never acted that way in front of Hongbin before. “He’s here voluntarily,” he said, tone sharp as though challenging Hongbin to argue with him. “I said we would guarantee his safety as long as he can get RM to cooperate.”

“That’s a tall order for such a small person,” Hakyeon said, perching on the corner of the desk. He was suddenly perfectly put-together, even his sweat-damp hair slicked back as though it was like that on purpose. “Does he even know what his boyfriend does?”

Jimin’s chest puffed up, comically defensive. To Hongbin, he looked like a tiny bird getting angry about someone wandering too close to his nest. “I’m not an idiot,” he snapped.

Hakyeon smiled at him, saccharine-sweet. “Of course not, sweetheart,” he cooed. He pushed off the desk and sauntered over to circle Jimin, gaze assessing. “You’re so innocent though. So gentle and naïve. I’d bet he keeps the worst of it from you, doesn’t want to scare you away with the realities of his work.”

“Oh yeah?” Jimin asked, lifting his chin to look down his nose at Hakyeon. “And your boytoy is so different, huh?”

Hakyeon barked out a laugh. “Baby,” he said, half-turning to Hongbin, “tell our new friend what you do to people who betray us.”

Hongbin kicked his feet up on the desk and examined his nails, affecting nonchalance. “I took a hand from the last one,” he said with a shrug.

Jimin went several shades paler and swallowed audibly.

“You understand what’s at stake now,” Hakyeon observed. “That’s good. Perhaps now we can discuss terms.”

“Terms for what?” Jimin asked. His arms folded across his chest, either a defense mechanism or an attempt at self-comfort.

Hakyeon turned away from Jimin, and Hongbin saw his eyes glint and a wicked smile play across his lips. “Why, the terms of his surrender, of course,” he said.

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, sorry it's been two months. I didn't mean for that to happen. Idk when the next chapter is coming out either, because of life reasons that I elaborated on through this [tumblr post](http://phantomflutist.tumblr.com/post/177538970352/why-i-havent-been-writing-lately).
> 
> This chapter is over 8k to make up some for the wait. Please enjoy the angst.

 

“He’s not going to surrender,” Jimin said with certainty.

Hakyeon’s eyebrow quirked. “Not even to get you back unharmed?”

Jimin’s next breath shuddered in his chest, but he said, “Not for anything. There’s too much at stake.”

“Is there?” Hakyeon asked. He perched on the desk again, but didn’t offer Jimin a seat. “See, I’ve been wondering what would make RM break a decades-old peace treaty.”

“What?” Jimin asked, blinking rapidly. “We didn’t break the treaty.”

Hakyeon scoffed. He’d believe that the day that Taekwoon put on a rainbow tutu and danced to Swan Lake. “So what do you call crossing territory lines, harassing business owners under our protection, and then starting an altercation that ended with six people dead?”

Jimin went paler than he had been before and crossed quickly to a chair and sat down. Hakyeon couldn’t even be offended, since he looked like he might faint. “That’s not possible,” he hissed, squinting up at Hakyeon.

“I have no reason to lie to you, Park Jimin-ssi,” Hakyeon said evenly. “I’m trying to get you to work with us, here.”

“Manipulation is a good way to do that,” Jimin pointed out. He ducked his head and breathed heavily for a moment or two. “According to our people, yours crossed the border first to harass one of our officers. We tried to de-escalate, and were attacked unprovoked.”

From the corner of his eye, Hakyeon could see how tense Hongbin had become. Wonshik, hovering by the door, looked like he might be sick.

“Ravi,” Hakyeon said. “It seems that I need to review the situation before negotiations can continue.” He might see Taekwoon in a tutu yet. “Show our guest to a room, won’t you?”

Wonshik nodded slowly and then came over to steady Jimin when he stumbled getting out of his chair.

Hakyeon glanced at Hongbin and said, “I think one of the guest rooms on the third floor would be appropriate.”

Wonshik looked relieved, and he murmured, “Yes, Hyungnim,” before he led Jimin from the room.

The study door closed quietly behind them and the room fell to silence for a moment. And then Hongbin sighed heavily and muttered, “I hope that was a good idea.”

“He wants this to work as much as we do. It’s not like he can leave without someone noticing,” Hakyeon pointed out.

“I know,” Hongbin said. “Wonshik will keep an eye on him.”

Hakyeon leaned back and tangled his fingers with Hongbin’s on the desktop. Hongbin’s hands were calloused from long hours handling a knife, rough against the delicately soft skin of Hakyeon’s own. “Do you think he’s right? That our guys started it?”

Hongbin sighed heavily. “I think there are too many people in this organization who want you ousted to not investigate the possibility,” he replied tactfully.

“Who want  _ you  _ ousted, you mean,” Hakyeon corrected. Because he might be the face of the operation, but Hongbin would always be the brains. Hakyeon wouldn’t be able to do it without him.

“When Old Man Park died, we set you up in the middle of a power vacuum, hoping that you could be the anchor that would keep the organization from falling apart,” Hongbin said. He laid a hand on Hakyeon’s belly, across the scar that he knew was there underneath his clothes. “If it weren’t for you, we would have lost control already.”

Hakyeon thought about the day he’d been stabbed, thought about Hongbin and the nondescript locket he wore beneath his shirt with the little medical cross engraved on the back and the details of his condition inside where it would be impossible to see them by accident. He lifted Hongbin’s hand from his belly and kissed his knuckles. “I’d take a thousand knives to protect you, my love,” he murmured.

“I know,” Hongbin replied. “I know, but I hate that you have to. We have to fix this bullshit.”

“And stomp on anyone who would dare try to tear our family apart,” Hakyeon said. He gave Hongbin  _ the _ smile, the one that promised death and pain to their enemies. They had so many enemies, especially now.

Hongbin drew him around, kissed him soundly, and told him, “Of course. We’ll do it together, baby.”

There was a knock at the door, and when Hongbin called, “Enter,” Sanghyuk strode into the room. He was wearing clean clothes finally; his hair looked washed and he’d clearly shaved recently and there was a pair of glasses perched on his nose.

Hakyeon blinked at him. “You don’t wear glasses,” he muttered.

Sanghyuk adjusted the glasses on his face, fingers stuttering around the movement, and said, “They’re a heads-up display, Hyung.” He turned his attention to Hongbin and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Saw Wonshik and his tiny pink friend in the hall. He said you might want to see me.”

There was no way that Sanghyuk  _ didn’t _ know who Park Jimin was, but that was hardly their biggest concern.

“I was just about to call you,” Hongbin confirmed. “We’re going to need your help.”

–

Wonshik let Jimin into the guest room across from his own on the third floor and was only slightly surprised to find that it was clean, dust-free, and had a fresh set of sheets on the bed. Honestly, the staff probably refreshed all of the guest rooms every few days, just in case they were needed. Wonshik didn’t exactly keep track of the servants’ duties.

“Wow,” Jimin said, trotting across to the corner where two wing-back armchairs sat angled slightly towards each other. A floor lamp arched over them and there was a bookshelf tucked into the corner itself, filled with a variety of reading material. “This place really feels like a gangster’s house.”

“RM doesn’t have the same taste in decor?” Wonshik asked, following him over.

Jimin shook his head and traced his fingertips over the embroidery on the back of one chair before he sat. With his legs crossed and his back straight in that effortless way that all dancers seemed to have, he looked perfectly at home with the antique furniture around him. “Hyung likes a more contemporary look. Clean lines, leather sofas, a bunch of weird knick-knacks everywhere, that kind of thing.”

Wonshik had trouble correlating that information with the image he already had of RM, but he supposed he shouldn’t really be surprised. After all, he didn’t know the man, did he?

“He’s going to start wondering where I am before long, you know,” Jimin said. His fingers tapped at the padded arm of the chair, a syncopated staccato rhythm. “I texted him that I was going out for dinner with some friends from the troupe, and I might even be able to convince him that I decided to stay at one of their places because I was drunk or something, but he’ll expect me back by morning at the latest.”

“Then we’ll try to have this resolved by then,” Wonshik said, even though he knew it wasn’t likely. He sat down in the other armchair and let himself slump forward. He was so damn tired of all this shit. “Just...don’t lie to your boyfriend. Not if you don’t have to. I don’t want this to cause your relationship to fall apart or something.”

Jimin laughed then, bell-like and bright. “Joonie-hyung and I have been through a lot, Hyung. It would take way more than a couple of lies to ruin what we’ve got.”

Wonshik huffed out a laugh that was more of a sigh and scrubbed his hands over his face. “You sure?” he asked. “Because this is more than just a white lie. You’re working with the enemy right now, Jimin.”

“For the good of both our organizations,” Jimin said. “He’ll forgive me in the end. So let me worry about my love life and you just help figure this out so that I can go home before he even has time to miss me.”

“Right,” Wonshik mumbled, and wished that that was as easy as Jimin made it sound.

They sat in silence for a while. Wonshik wasn’t even sure whether he was supposed to stay there with Jimin, or if Hongbin would want him back in the study. But he figured he’d be sent for if he was needed, and in the meantime it was kind of nice to just sit.

After a while Jimin spoke up. He watched Wonshik with his head cocked to one side as he asked, “Do they know? I know you said they just found out about Taemin, but do they know about–?”

“No, they don’t,” Wonshik interrupted before Jimin could finish getting the question out. He winced at the gruffness of his own tone, offering an apologetic little head bob.  “And I’d prefer if it stayed that way.”

“Okay,” Jimin agreed easily. He leaned back in the chair again, glancing around the room. “You don’t...happen to have any food around here, do you? I did just come from practice and I’m kind of starving.”

It was the brightness of his voice more than anything that made Wonshik chuckle. He shoved his hands against his thighs to propel himself upright and told Jimin, “I’ll see what I can do.”

Jimin’s response was cheerful. He was probably the most easy-going prisoner they’d ever had.

Wonshik went hunting for a servant to bring Jimin dinner – or, barring that, to make dinner for Jimin himself – and tried to push the guilt down into the dark forgotten places inside his head where he also kept the memories of every person that he’d killed or tortured in the name of VIXX. It wasn’t easy – especially since his conscience always sounded suspiciously like Taemin.

He found Taekwoon and Jaehwan in the kitchen, both half dressed and giggling like children. Wonshik shouldered his way unrepentantly past them to get to the fridge. Jaehwan squawked, fell against Taekwoon’s chest, and started giggling all over again.

“What the hell are you two on?” Wonshik asked, pulling containers of leftovers out of the fridge and inspecting them. Soup from two days ago, a few side dishes...he’d have to make rice, and maybe some rolled egg or something because Jimin could use the extra protein after dancing all day.

Behind him, the two idiots were attempting to sober up. Taekwoon had managed it by the time Wonshik turned around, but as soon as Jaehwan saw Wonshik’s face he let loose a whole new bout of hysterics.

“Fucking ha,” Wonshik muttered at him, kicking his ankle vindictively on his way past with a stack of tupperware. “Go be lovesick idiots somewhere else. This is a public space.”

He expected one or both of them to clam up at the accusation that they were in love. He expected raised voices and slammed doors, or at least for Taekwoon to stalk out stonily. Instead Jaehwan made a noise like he was swooning and when Wonshik bothered to glance at them he wished he hadn’t, because they were wrapped up in each other (literally) and looked like they were going to start making out in the middle of the kitchen.

Which was probably what they’d been doing before Wonshik walked in, but they could fucking deal. He hadn’t gotten to go home in weeks, barely got phone calls with the people he loved, and if Taemin knew that he’d taken Jimin as a hostage (no matter how willingly Jimin had come) he would probably never forgive Wonshik. So Taekwoon and Jaehwan could take their fucked-up relationship and shove it up their asses.

He was about to snap something to that effect at them when Sanghyuk appeared in the doorway. He cleared his throat and leaned heavily against the doorframe, looking sickly. “Taekwoon-hyung, you’re needed,” he said, short and sharp.

Taekwoon’s head lifted and he gave Sanghyuk his full attention. “What happened?” he asked.

Sanghyuk took a deep breath and let it out slow. “We have reason to believe,” he said, consonants clear even though his voice was audibly trembling, “that one of ours may have started the altercation last week.”

A flood of dread filled the room like fog. Wonshik had heard Jimin say it in the study, but he hadn’t really believed it. Not for more than a second. He didn’t think Jimin would lie, but there was no saying how much of RM’s operation he was truly privy to. He could have just been misinformed. But to hear it come out of their own spymaster’s mouth….

“Sabotage?”

The whisper was so quiet Wonshik almost didn’t realize that it had come from him. All of a sudden he was back five years, back beside Old Man Park’s death bed, on the day that they realized that his illness wasn’t an illness at all, but slow-acting poison. It had been too late to save him (he’d died only a few hours later) and it had been all they could do to stop the assassin from getting what they wanted.

Sanghyuk nodded, and then his head drooped against the doorframe with the rest of his body. “We think that someone in our organization  _ wanted _ this war against RM.”

“It’s a distraction,” Jaehwan said. He’d let go of Taekwoon, and was standing stock still in the middle of the room with his spine so ramrod straight it looked like it hurt. “They want us so focused on outside threats that we won’t even think to look for inside ones.”

“We increase security around Hakyeon, Hongbin, and the whole household during wartimes,” Taekwoon pointed out in a soft voice that Wonshik hadn’t heard him use in quite a while. Not in front of Jaehwan, at any rate.

Jaehwan made a dismissive gesture. “Against outside threats, sure. There’s an extra guard on the gate and they do patrols through the garden and Hakyeon doesn’t go out without a bodyguard. But what better time for an assassination from within the organization than when we have extra people tramping in and out of the house all the time? All our routines are fucked up; we won’t remember if that guard was supposed to be where he was, so we’ll just assume that he is.”

Sanghyuk’s eyes had grown wide. Taekwoon was watching Jaehwan like he’d grown an extra limb. Wonshik had a half-opened tupperware container in his hands.

Jaehwan turned his gaze to Taekwoon, and he said, “We need to scale security back to the usual patterns. Hakyeon and Hongbin don’t leave the house without one of the inner circle. Until we figure out who our would-be assassin is–”

“It’s not just one person,” Hakyeon interrupted, flouncing into the room casually and going to pour himself a cup of coffee. “It’s a group, probably a whole faction that wants power and thinks this is the way to get it.”

“How do you know?” Jaehwan asked.

Hakyeon tapped his side. “I was stabbed, a week after taking power. We caught the man who did it, and Hongbin personally slit his throat. And then a few weeks later, there was another attempt on my life – more clever this time, but we caught him too. There have been several other attempts since then, fewer and farther between the longer I’ve been the boss. Some of them may have been outside jobs.”

“But you’re not sure,” Jaehwan said, his brow furrowing. It was weird to see him so serious.

“No,” Hakyeon agreed, and took a sip of his coffee as he leaned back against the counter. “We’re not sure, because those mysteries unfortunately remain unsolved.”

They were all quiet for a while. Sanghyuk looked less and less like he was going to be sick the longer he stood there breathing deeply. Wonshik finally went back to working on dinner for Jimin. Taekwoon and Jaehwan bent their heads close together like they were sharing a secret, but from what Wonshik could tell they weren’t communicating at all, unless they’d developed a secret code involving only minute facial twitches.

Eventually, Hakyeon said, “Jaehwan’s suggestions are sound. Return to the routine, keep the unknown out of the house, and safety in numbers. I’ll discuss it with Hongbin.” And just like that, he swept out of the room.

_ Safety in numbers, _ he’d said, like the rest of them were in just as much danger as he was. Even Hongbin wasn’t as much of a target.

It wasn’t until long after he was gone and the others had scattered as well that Wonshik realized: Hakyeon didn’t even drink coffee.

–

Hongbin knocked perfunctorily on the guestroom door and then entered without waiting for an answer, Hakyeon trailing slightly behind him, to find Wonshik and Park Jimin sitting on the floor. There was a meal laid out on the padded ottoman at the end of the bed, the dishes mostly empty, and Jimin’s chopsticks caught on his bottom lip when he saw them come in.

“We need to have another talk,” Hongbin said, nodding at Jimin and then stepping out of Hakyeon’s way.

Jimin swallowed and the chopsticks were set down on the edge of a plate. “I see,” he said. “I guess you made a decision, then?”

Hakyeon’s hands folded together at the small of his back and he peered down his nose at Jimin, who didn’t seem inclined to get up. He said, “We’d like to arrange a temporary truce with RM.”

“Okay,” Jimin agreed easily enough. “Should I just call him then, or…?”

“Please do,” Hakyeon said, and waved an imperious hand.

Jimin dug his phone out of the pocket of his almost-obscenely-tight jeans and swiped his fingers across the screen. He held it up to his ear for only a moment before he said, “Hi, Hyung. Yeah, I know it’s late. Look, I’m uh – I’m with Ravi. Yeah, that Ravi. And his boss.” He winced, scratched the back of his neck, and let out a pouty little huff. After a moment of silence, during which he chewed his bottom lip until it looked painful, he pulled the phone from his ear and set it to speakerphone. “Okay, they can hear you.”

“N-ssi?” asked RM’s voice over the line.

“Yes, I’m here,” Hakyeon responded.

“I would love to know how you managed to kidnap my lover right underneath my nose,” RM said, his tone conversational.

Hakyeon’s mouth turned up in a cruel little smirk. “You’d be amazed how many things you can get away with if you simply send someone somewhere they’re expected.”

Hongbin saw Wonshik wince and drop his gaze to the floor, and he couldn’t say he was surprised. They’d been friends for long enough that Hongbin could recognize the guilt that oozed out of Wonshik’s very pores.

“Fair enough,” RM said, still shockingly cheerful considering they could be holding a gun to Jimin’s head as far as he knew. “So you have Jimin. What is it that you were hoping to gain by taking him?”

“Well, I was planning to hurt you by killing him,” Hakyeon said, matching RM’s tone. He adjusted one of his cufflinks and straightened his sleeve, a casual power move that lacked purpose because RM couldn’t see it. “But my conversation with him has been...enlightening.”

RM didn’t sound shaken at all when he said, “Conversations with Jimin often can be.”

“Then I imagine you’ll be relieved to hear that I no longer have immediate plans to kill him. It seems as though there have been some misunderstandings between us, RM-ssi, and I believe it would be in the best interests of both our organizations if we resolved things before they get any...messier.”

There was quiet over the line for a while, long enough that Hongbin almost thought the call had been disconnected, before RM responded, “And what would you suggest?”

Hakyeon took a step closer to Jimin, to the phone, and said, “A temporary truce, while we investigate the situation and negotiate a new peace treaty. And I’d like to keep your lover as insurance.”

“Usually in these situations an exchange of hostages is customary,” RM said. They’d expected it, of course, because without a hostage of his own RM would be at a disadvantage. They’d already decided to offer Taekwoon. But before Hakyeon could speak up and say that, RM was continuing, “You have a lover as well, don’t you? Lee Hongbin, if I remember right. Lower ranking, never made it very far up the food chain in spite of his numerous years of service. An oddly disadvantageous pairing for you, but I’m familiar with how love sometimes overrides logic.”

Hakyeon glanced at Hongbin, and in the second that they made eye contact before Hakyeon’s gaze slid away again, Hongbin caught the flash of fear in Hakyeon’s eyes. There were very few things that Hakyeon was afraid of, and nearly all of them had to do with Hongbin. “You want Hongbin?”

RM’s chuckle was dark and cruel. Hongbin should have known. RM wasn’t an idiot, wouldn’t accept Taekwoon – top-ranking officer or not – in place of the man he loved. There was only one way to make it fair, and RM had no way of knowing that he should be asking for Hakyeon instead. “Unless you want to return Jimin and take one of my officers instead, then yes. I want Lee Hongbin.”

Hongbin reached out, put his hand on Hakyeon’s arm. When Hakyeon looked at him he nodded once, and tried not to flinch at the flash of flint in Hakyeon’s eyes and the clench of his jaw as he turned away.

“Fine,” Hakyeon gritted out. His acting had survived through a thousand tough scenarios but this, apparently, was too much for him to hide. He was affected and RM probably knew it. “Fine, we’ll do the exchange. Where and when?”

“I assume you’re familiar with Yook Sungjae,” RM said, sounding smug. Hongbin wanted to punch his face in, but he still couldn’t help feeling a grudging respect for the man, who knew how to play a situation like this to his advantage. “His apartment. We’ll say...two hours from now? That should give your lover time to pack a bag.”

Hakyeon’s jaw was clenched so tight that it took him a moment to loosen it enough to say, “Very well. Sungjae’s in two hours.”

RM hummed an acknowledgement and then Jimin was picking up the phone again, apparently done being silent, to ask RM, “Hyung, you’re packing me a bag too, right? Can you make sure my night cream is in there? You know how bad my skin gets if I don’t keep up my regular routine.”

There was a low chuckle, and RM muttering, “Yes, Jimin, I’ll send a bag.”

“Make sure my night cream is in there,” Jimin repeated. He sounded like a kid preparing for a sleepover or something. “Thanks, Hyung. I love you!” He hung up before RM could say anything back.

Hakyeon was livid, his hands curled into tight fists at his sides. He stared down at Jimin’s phone as though it was personally responsible for the situation until Hongbin reached out and plucked it from Jimin’s hand.

At Jimin’s squawk of protest, Hongbin said, “No unsupervised communications. It’s nothing personal, Jimin-ssi, just a precaution to ensure you don’t say anything you shouldn’t.” He turned his gaze to Wonshik next and pointed the phone at him. “Watch him,” he ordered. “Park Jimin is now your responsibility.”

Wonshik nodded in a gesture that was usually accompanied by a firm,  _ Yes, Oyabun, _ that would have been inappropriate in the current company.

That taken care of, Hongbin put himself in Hakyeon’s personal space, curled his fingers around one of Hakyeon’s clenched fists, and asked, “You want to help me pack, Hyung?”

Hakyeon took a shuddering inhale and pasted on a smile. For whose benefit, Hongbin wasn’t sure. “Of course I will, baby,” he replied, and wrapped his arm around Hongbin’s waist to guide him out of the room.

They didn’t speak again until the door of their own bedroom was shut behind them.

“That was fucking stupid,” was the first thing that Hakyeon said. His hands were fisted again, and he stood in the middle of their persian rug with his eyes closed and his head drooping between his shoulders.

“We didn’t have a choice,” Hongbin said. He slid a hand down the middle of Hakyeon’s back as he passed, and then opened the closet to find a bag to pack in.

Hakyeon’s breath stuttered and he swayed in place for a moment before he crossed to the bed and sat down heavily. “It should be me,” he muttered. “This isn’t a fair trade and you know it.”

Hongbin sighed and tossed a leather duffle bag onto the bed right next to him. “I know,” he said, and ran a hand through his hair. “But they can’t. Are you willing to give up Jimin in order to send Taekwoon in my place, though? Because that’s really our only other option.”

“No,” Hakyeon said, and flopped backward to stare up at the bed’s canopy. “His officers could be expendable, but Jimin is definitely not. This is our best chance at keeping things civil. At making this work.” He turned his gaze to Hongbin, hair floppy, eyes soft, and added, “That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“I don’t like it either, you know,” Hongbin said. He patted Hakyeon’s knee and then went back to the closet. “Do you think I want to be away from the organization? From  _ you? _ I won’t be able to help you make decisions when I’m stuck with RM and being monitored all the time.”

Hakyeon groaned and turned onto his side, curling up into a little ball. “This is a bad idea,” he moaned pitifully. “How the fuck am I supposed to run this place without you?”

Hongbin came back with an armful of clothes and started folding. “You’ll have Taekwoon and Wonshik and Sanghyuk,” he reminded Hakyeon. “And my brother is starting to reveal himself to be an asset. Let them help you. If all goes well, it’ll only be for a few days.”

“And if it’s longer?” Hakyeon asked, reaching out to tug at Hongbin’s shirt with two fingers.

“Then you’ll figure it out,” Hongbin promised. He smiled indulgently down at Hakyeon. “You’re better at this than you give yourself credit for. How many times have you made a split-second decision on your own that was exactly what we needed?”

Hakyeon tugged again at Hongbin’s shirt and mumbled, “I’m afraid I’ll second-guess myself if you’re not here to back me up.”

Hongbin took his hand and bent down to kiss his knuckles. “Don’t. You’ve got this. It’ll just be for a few days while we fix things with RM and then I can come home and we can root out this rebel faction for good.”

“God, you’re sexy when you’re plotting,” Hakyeon moaned, and lifted half off the bed, straining towards Hongbin’s face, begging for a kiss.

Hongbin granted it, just a quick peck on the lips before he disengaged and ducked into the bathroom to gather his toiletries. When he came back out, tucking them into their little case, Hakyeon was lounging with a more sensual look on his face. “Not now,” Hongbin told him, and couldn’t help the chuckle as he swatted at Hakyeon’s leg.

“But you’re leaving,” Hakyeon complained, stretching out on the bed and spreading his legs. His clothes scrunched and pulled strangely across his waist and shoulders and Hongbin poked him in the side.

“You’re ruining your suit,” he said, and put the zippered pouch of toiletries into the duffle bag on top of his clothes. “And we still have to discuss the plan for while I’m gone.  _ And _ I just fucked you a few hours ago.”

Hakyeon sighed heavily and gazed at him with bedroom eyes for a bit longer before giving in. “Fine,” he said, “but when you get home you’re going to fuck me until I can’t walk.”

“Fair enough,” Hongbin agreed, only laughing at him a little. He cast his eye around the room, trying to decide if there was anything else he was likely to need.

Hakyeon propped himself up on his elbows and said, “Don’t forget your medication.”

Hongbin hesitated. “What if they go through my bag?”

“The inside packaging is unlabelled,” Hakyeon pointed out. “If they ask, tell them you have an ulcer or something, I don’t know. Just take it.” His eyes were pleading, his lower lip starting to pout out comically. “I have to know you’re going to be okay, baby.”

“I know,” Hongbin said, and took the time to lean down and give Hakyeon another kiss. “I’ll be fine, I promise. I’ll be a model prisoner, so as long as Park Jimin is okay, I will be too.”

“Right.” Hakyeon inhaled and exhaled very, very slowly, possibly in an attempt to keep his breath steady. His hands clutched at the front of Hongbin’s shirt until he had to brace his hands on the bed or risk falling over. He craned his neck up for another kiss, and then another and another, and then finally repeated, “Right. Finish packing. I’ll gather the others and update them.”

“Make sure you knock,” Hongbin said. Taekwoon and Jaehwan had been strangely giddy and touchy at lunch and had otherwise locked themselves in Taekwoon’s bedroom for most of the day. Frankly, he didn’t want to know what was going on.

Hakyeon agreed, “Good idea.” 

Neither of them moved to get up.

Eventually, Hongbin leaned down for one last kiss, which didn’t stay one kiss. He pressed them down Hakyeon’s jaw and his neck, traced his tongue over his adam’s apple, and felt Hakyeon’s hands spread over his ribs. He let himself take the time to part Hakyeon’s shirt collar and suck a hickey low on his neck, listening to Hakyeon’s breathy noises beneath him.

And then finally, finally, he made himself pull away.

Hakyeon lay there panting, hands flopped to his sides where they’d fallen when he’d lost his grip on Hongbin’s shirt. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too,” Hongbin replied, fixing his clothes and then pulling open the bedside table drawer to retrieve his medication and tuck it inside his bag. “Now let’s go get it over with, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Hakyeon sighed, and only laid there another moment before he pulled himself up and followed Hongbin out of the room.

–

Sanghyuk really, really did not want to go back to Sungjae’s apartment after that morning’s argument. God, he almost couldn’t believe that it had only been half a day since he’d been there last. The fight with Sungjae felt like it had been weeks ago.

Wonshik stopped the car and Sanghyuk saw Taekwoon do the same in the car behind them. He was still wearing his glasses, the HUD cycling through all the camera feeds that he’d hacked in the area. In the corner of the display a notification popped up; a text message from Sungjae.

“They’re here,” Sanghyuk warned just before Wonshik got out of the car. He got a curt nod and Wonshik patted the pocket of his leather jacket, where Sanghyuk had seen him put his brass knuckles before they left the house.

Sanghyuk climbed out and stared at the rusting metal staircase that led up to the rooftop while he waited for the others. Wonshik rounded the car with Jimin trailing behind him, Taekwoon loitered at the driver’s side of the second sedan, and Hongbin and Hakyeon stood with their heads bent together for another moment before they separated and stepped past Sanghyuk, presenting a united front as they all headed up to Sungjae’s apartment.

RM and three of his officers were waiting on the roof. Sanghyuk couldn’t help but find it funny, two rival gangs meeting in the middle of a garden, surrounded by flowers and the row of cucumber plants that Sungjae was so fucking proud of.

Jimin, apparently unaware of the serious atmosphere of the meeting, chirped, “Hi, Hyung!” as soon as he spotted RM, complete with chipper little wave.

Sanghyuk did not face-palm, but it was a close thing.

RM smiled indulgently at him and said, “Hi, Jimin.” Just as quickly, he switched back to his business face, tucked his hands in his pockets, and greeted Hakyeon. “N-ssi. I’m glad we could have this meeting.”

“As am I,” Hakyeon answered, sounding carefree even though Sanghyuk knew he had to be anything but. RM didn’t even know what he was really getting, here. “I know how important Park Jimin must be to you. And since this whole thing was quite abrupt, I’m sure you’d like a few moments to say goodbye before we do the exchange.”

If Sanghyuk had to guess he would say that RM was thrown by that, but he didn’t have time to do more than raise one eyebrow questioningly before Jimin had thrown himself at him. RM caught him with a lurch backwards that could easily have been a fall if he hadn’t caught himself in time and embraced him when Jimin wrapped arms around his neck and started peppering kisses across his face.

They murmured to each other for a moment, and RM cupped Jimin’s cheeks and pressed several kisses to his mouth. Sanghyuk looked away and tried not to gag.

Of course, that brought him face to face with Sungjae, who was staring at him with poorly disguised longing as he leaned back against his apartment door. And fuck, but Sanghyuk could feel his own gaze starting to match and it was not the time for that drama, so he stared pointedly at the floor near RM’s feet and focused on the camera feeds in his HUD instead.

There weren’t any more of RM’s men in the area, that Sanghyuk could tell – just the three on the rooftop with them, all officers, all part of his inner circle. It made sense, he supposed, for a number of reasons – a show of good faith, an attempt to keep this quiet within his own organization, or perhaps just because these were the men RM trusted the most with his own safety and that of his lover if things went to shit.

And fuck, honestly Sanghyuk wasn’t convinced that VIXX would make it out unscathed if things  _ did  _ go to shit. He’d only met one member of RM’s inner circle in person (V, and that was a whole other can of worms that he didn’t want to think about) but he knew exactly how dangerous they were.

Suga was watching Sanghyuk with an unreadable gaze. For a man with such a sweet name and mint-ice-cream-colored hair to match, he wasn’t gentle or soft. At least not anywhere that word would get out about it, anyway. And Sanghyuk had ways of getting information that people thought was buried so deep that God himself wouldn’t find it.

RM and Jimin were finishing their goodbyes, stepping apart. Jimin turned to stand at RM’s side, staring back at Hakyeon with his chin lifted higher than Sanghyuk would have expected. He seemed like such a tiny, soft little thing, but there must have been steel in him somewhere to stand against VIXX’s leader without blinking. Or maybe that was just because he knew the true strengths of the men at his back.

Suga, J-Hope, V – silly-sounding names, maybe, but Suga knew a hundred ways to kill you without you ever noticing. J-Hope was a brawler, all sharp elbows and sharper knives, and he was fucking  _ fast. _ And V...Sanghyuk had to hold back a shudder when he thought too long about the things that V could do. He didn’t specialize in close combat, suffice it to say, but Sanghyuk was willing to bet that he was more dangerous than the other two put together.

“We should set the terms,” Hakyeon said stiffly. He was trying to appear calm and aloof, and maybe to RM and his people he was succeeding, but anyone who knew him would be able to see the muscle in his jaw twitching.

RM said, “Any injury to Jimin will be mirrored on Hongbin.”

Hakyeon’s adam’s apple bobbed just the tiniest bit as he nodded, “The same is true if any harm comes to Hongbin.”

“Fair enough,” RM agreed, and then after a beat he added, “We can’t allow him to communicate with you while he’s with us.”

“Agreed,” Hakyeon said, miraculously managing not to grit his teeth. “We’ll give daily updates, so that we both know that our terms are being kept.”

RM’s smile was too wide, as though he found the situation amusing and not at all stressful. “Don’t worry, N-ssi. We won’t hurt him unless you give us reason to. And we’ll bring him to future meetings regarding the treaty, provided you bring Jimin as well.”

“Fine. Two days from now, to give us both time to investigate the situation?”

“That would work well for us,” RM said. He shoved his hands back in his pockets and looked around at the garden. “Perhaps a more comfortable location next time? I know of a few restaurants with private rooms that might be preferable.”

Hakyeon took a moment to respond – making RM wait, Sanghyuk thought, rather than simple hesitation. “And where would these restaurants be?” he asked tactfully. Because god forbid he straight-up ask if RM was trying to lead them right into an ambush. Sanghyuk knew an accusation like that would devolve the situation, but he couldn’t help but get sick of beating around the bush.

“We have some mutual allies, I think,” RM responded. He jerked his head in Sungjae’s direction, apparently as an example. “You are still on good terms with Suho, I assume?”

It was like the entire rooftop froze in time for the space of a second. If Hakyeon said no, then RM would wonder why and eventually find out that Sehun had been doing business on their turf without any repercussions as of yet. If he said yes, then they would have to go into Suho’s territory and hope that EXO didn’t decide to graduate from espionage to a full-on attack.

“We would inform him ahead of time, of course,” RM continued, seemingly unaware of Hakyeon’s indecision. “I’m sure the last thing either of us wants is to be on bad terms with another organization.” He said it in a casual tone, without emphasis on the word  _ another,  _ as though he didn’t think that the turf war they were currently in meant that they were on bad terms.

“Of course,” Hakyeon agreed at long last, mirroring RM’s posture, hands in his pockets. “I’ve been craving sushi lately.”

“I know a place,” RM said. “I’ll get us dinner reservations.”

And just like that it was decided. The two “leaders” turned to their lovers to say a final goodbye before the proper exchange.

Sanghyuk avoided looking at RM and Jimin, sure that whatever mushy things they were saying to each other, he didn’t want to know anyway. He couldn’t help a glance at Hakyeon and Hongbin though, and caught Hakyeon gently cradling Hongbin’s cheek with one hand, his eyes obviously full of things he would never say in front of the present company. Instead he kissed Hongbin once, slow and chaste, and then took a step back.

Taekwoon handed Hongbin his bag, and Hongbin put his phone in Taekwoon’s hand in its place. Across the rooftop, Jimin was given a similar bag, and when he turned to face VIXX again he was  _ smiling, _ of all things. He practically skipped across when Hongbin started to cross the space between them and then stood just as casually and confidently at Wonshik’s side as he had at RM’s.

There was a mutual rifling through of bags. Hongbin surrendered Jimin’s phone to RM’s custody and shrugged off the blister pack of pills they found in his things. Sanghyuk didn’t know what was said, really, just that nothing went to hell and then somehow RM and his officers were leaving, taking Hongbin with them, and leaving tiny pink Jimin behind like that was a fair trade.

Sanghyuk blinked several times, swore that there must be something smeared on his glasses, and croaked out an excuse about needing to consult with Sungjae on something when Hakyeon started making moves to leave.

If Hakyeon questioned it, if he gave Sanghyuk a  _ look  _ or did any other extremely Hakyeon thing, Sanghyuk didn’t notice. Finally he heard Hakyeon say, “Well, we’ll leave one of the cars for you,” and then Wonshik put a key in his hand for him and they all shuffled away.

A hand landed on his shoulder and Sanghyuk jerked. He’d forgotten. For a second, he’d forgotten, even through using Sungjae as an excuse, that Sungjae was  _ there  _ and that staying meant Sanghyuk had to  _ talk to him. _

“Come inside. I’ll make tea,” Sungjae said. He didn’t sound angry. He didn’t sound hurt anymore, either. He just sounded calm, like he always did. Like he always  _ was, _ even beneath the flamboyant attitude he put on sometimes. Of course Sungjae clung to neutrality. It was a part of him.

Sanghyuk followed him inside, sank down into a chair when Sungjae pressed him into it, and didn’t think anymore until there was a warm mug of tea in his hands and Sungjae was wrapping his fingers around it for him.

“Don’t drop it,” Sungjae ordered, and he ducked his head down so it was in Sanghyuk’s line of sight. His eyes were twinkling. “It’s only hot enough to give you first-degree burns, but you won’t like that.”

Sanghyuk nodded and made himself grip the mug, and then he lifted it to his mouth and took a tentative sip. It burnt his tongue. He might have hissed at the pain.

Sungjae scolded, “I told you it was hot.” He dropped into a chair next to Sanghyuk and there was a clunk when he set down his own mug. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Sanghyuk said, and then realizing it was a lie and hating himself for lying to Sungjae when Sungjae was one of the only people that he  _ didn’t  _ lie to regularly, amended, “No.”

“Yeah, I figured that out. Want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” he said, not because he didn’t want to but because...he didn’t know. He had no idea why he was suddenly this sad lump of a person. It had come out of nowhere, the disconnected melancholy.

“Okay,” Sungjae said easily, and he bent over to blow on his tea instead of picking it up. “That was pretty emotional back there, though. Two guys saying goodbye to the loves of their lives, afraid they’re never gonna see each other again, but also unable to say how they  _ really _ feel? I’d be emotional. Hell, I cried a little bit just watching them.”

Sanghyuk could tell where he was going with that. “Don’t make this about us, Sungjae,” he begged.

Sungjae huffed, and finally picked his tea up to drink it. “Fine, I won’t. But you did first, so it’s not my fault.”

“Right,” Sanghyuk mumbled, and sipped his tea again for lack of anything better to do. It didn’t burn anymore, but maybe his mouth was just already injured enough that it didn’t notice.

They sat and drank their tea in silence, and Sungjae didn’t try to make him talk. Although Sanghyuk wasn’t looking at him, so for all he knew Sungjae was making really determined faces at him and he just didn’t know it.

Eventually Sanghyuk’s cup was empty and he set it down on the table in front of him. And that was really the first moment when he realized...that there was a table in front of him. He was sitting in a wooden dining chair, in front of a battered formica table, in the corner of Sungjae’s kitchen where his mattress used to be. He jerked his head up to see Sungjae smirking at him around the lip of his mug, mouth kittenish.

“You got a table,” Sanghyuk said like an idiot.

Sungjae nodded, took another swallow of tea, and said, “I got a table.”

Sanghyuk craned his neck around, trying to see the rest of the apartment around the kitchen partition and mostly failing. All he could see from his location was Sungjae’s computer rig, which remained unchanged. “Where’s your  _ bed?” _ he asked.

“Where it belongs,” Sungjae said, snorting. He set his mug down and got up, tugging Sanghyuk up with him. “Come on, look.”

He dragged Sanghyuk out of the kitchen so that he could see the rest of the tiny apartment. And yeah, in the area that was technically the “bedroom” there was a small bed frame set up, just large enough for Sungjae’s twin-sized mattress. It wasn’t fancy, and the blankets were thrown haphazardly onto it the way that they’d always been when the mattress was on the floor, but it was a bed.

And, more shockingly, Sungjae’s  _ other rig  _ was suspiciously absent.

Sanghyuk whirled on him, outraged words already in his mouth, ready to spew when he saw the smug look on Sungjae’s face.

But then Sungjae just spread his hands, let a smile take over his face, and said, “I hadn’t used it for months. And it seemed stupid to have it taking up space, so I sold it to someone who would actually get some use out of it.”

“What are you saying?” Sanghyuk asked. His hands hung limply at his sides. He wasn’t sure how to react.

Sungjae took a step closer to him, like Sanghyuk was a frightened animal or some shit. He shrugged like the whole thing was a lot less important than it was. “It was something I liked, and something that I enjoyed for a while, but it was never something that I  _ needed. _ Honestly, I’ve been trying to sell the thing for weeks and couldn’t find a buyer. I was about ready to just throw it in the trash.”

“You’ve had that thing for years,” Sanghyuk said. He flopped his arms around uselessly, as though they might help him figure out what emotion he was supposed to be feeling. “You had a string of lovers. I used to come here and find people  _ tied up _ in that thing–”

“And I could tell how uncomfortable that made you,” Sungjae agreed. “The thing is though–” he scratched his head– “if it had just been that I would have, I don’t know, made sure the door was locked or left some sort of warning so you wouldn’t come in or...whatever. But I never really, like...connected with any of those guys? They were fun for a while but I couldn’t see things ever getting serious with any of them. And eventually I figured out that maybe that was because the things I enjoy during sex are very different from what I want in a relationship.”

Sanghyuk’s chest felt tight. His arms froze at his sides, fists clenched tight. “What are you saying?” he asked again.

“I’m saying that...that I decided that what I want in a relationship is more important to me than what I like in bed. I’m  _ saying–”  _ and here he stepped forward again, not into Sanghyuk’s space just yet but close, so close– “that maybe the reason that I never connected with any of those other guys was because I had my  _ ideal  _ guy right in front of me the whole time and I didn’t notice until I’d scared him off me so bad that he wouldn’t even hear me out when I tried to confess to him.”

“Oh,” Sanghyuk said. His fists unfurled and he stood there slumped, staring at the floor, the sad defeated lump of a person that he probably deserved to be.

“Yeah, oh,” Sungjae said. He scooched closer still, until his socked toes were touching Sanghyuk’s. “How do you feel about kissing?”

Sanghyuk stared at their feet (Sungjae’s socks were mismatched, one dark green and the other vibrantly orange and covered in cartoon kittens). He remembered how to use his words. “Kissing is. I like it, sometimes.”

“If I kissed you now, would it make you uncomfortable?” Sungjae pressed, careful, calm, always so calm. Perfectly neutral Sungjae, always considerate of Sanghyuk’s feelings – of everyone’s feelings, but of Sanghyuk’s especially.

“No,” Sanghyuk managed. “No, it….”

And then Sungjae was leaning in very slowly, keeping his hands to himself and broadcasting his intentions very clearly so that Sanghyuk could retreat if he wanted. He rocked their foreheads together to get Sanghyuk to tip his head up far enough to get to his lips, and then their mouths were pressed together. He didn’t do more than that, just one brief kiss and then he pulled away again, just as slow as the approach had been.

“It would be good,” Sanghyuk said, finishing the sentence that he hadn’t been able to voice a moment before.

“Yeah?” Sungjae asked. His smile could only be described as  _ beatific, _ although Sanghyuk didn’t even know why he knew that word.  _ Blissfully happy, _ he thought, and knew it was the truth, for both of them.

Sanghyuk was the one who took a step forward this time, who put himself in Sungjae’s space and pressed a lingering kiss to his lips. “Yeah,” he murmured.

Sungjae tucked his arms around Sanghyuk’s sides and just rocked them side to side for a while, that smile still plastered to his face. Sanghyuk had a feeling that it wouldn’t be going away anytime soon. “Good. Because I plan on doing it as often as you’ll let me get away with. And  _ cuddling.  _ Oh my god, I’m the best cuddler and you don’t even know because you barely let me  _ touch  _ you.”

“That’s a large claim,” Sanghyuk said.

Sungjae scoffed. “I’ll prove it. I’m going to cuddle the  _ shit _ out of you, Han Sanghyuk. I have  _ years _ to make up for.”

Sanghyuk laughed and said, “I look forward to that,” and found that it was truth.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [Tumblr](http://phantomflutist.tumblr.com/) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/PhantomFlutist) if you want progress updates or just want to see me flail. Also feel free to ask me questions about fic. I might not always have a coherent answer for you but it might be worth a try!


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